Bully
by GrittyRe-boot
Summary: Rachel Berry is a loser, a nobody, everybody knows it, and maybe we took things a little too far, but it was just a stupid prank. It's not like we meant for her to get hurt like that... So why do I feel like this? Like I can't turn away. AU, more inside
1. The Fall

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**Since I can't see any reason for another long gap in updating in the foreseeable future, I thought I'd post a preview of my next fic. Unless I run into a very boring day I doubt I'll be continuing this until I finish So We Meet Again which is about three chapters away from its conclusion, and should be updated again tomorrow. A few things about this story, it's the first one in awhile that's set in McKinley high, and it's not nearly as AU as my recent streak of fics (although it still strays pretty far from canon), although you should be warned, prepare to absolutely hate Finn in the first chapter or so, I don't think I've ever made him this unlikable before, but I think in the long run it will be more powerful that way, and he'll of course be his lovable self again soon enough. Another warning, this story involves a major character death, it's not going to be Finn or Rachel but it is someone we've all grown to know and love, and has a lot to do with why Finn is the way he is at the beginning of the story, so be prepared for it.**

Rachel Berry, what is there to say about Rachel Berry? She's seventeen, I know that much, shorter than most, and Jewish, I know that she's Jewish because she never shuts up about it, in fact there isn't much of anything she will shut up about. Sometimes I feel like she won't rest until everybody with ears knows that she's going to be a big fucking star one day, that she's going to leave Lima and never look back because she so goddamned special, that us cool kids are going to regret every slushy we ever tossed her way when we're washing her Lexus. And she wonders why nobody can fucking stand her.

I'll never get people like Rachel Berry, I know that deep down she wants to be liked, everyone does, she must want to be liked if she's so hellbent on being the next Barbra Streisand or some shit, but the way she acts, like she doesn't give a damn about what anyone thinks when I know goddamn well that she does, well the truth is it pisses me off. It always has, she acts so superior when anyone who's ever spent five minutes with her knows that she's the biggest loser in school, even the rejects in her little glee club hate her guts, and she knows it too.

The worst part about it is, in spite of what everyone says, she's not exactly ugly. Sure her nose is on the bigger side and her tits are on the smaller side, but in a freaky sort of way she's pretty hot, her mouth is nice, her eyes too, and she kind of has this ass that won't quit and killer legs that she's always showing off in these little skirts that remind me of Catholic school girls, and I'd be lying if I said I never pictured those things wrapped around me when I'm buried deep inside her, and her voice, that loud, musical voice of hers is yelling my name, but then I try to think of something else because it's ridiculous to even consider thinking about fucking Rachel Berry, I'm dating Quinn Fabray for chrissakes, head cheerleader, hottest chick on the planet, what do I need to be thinking about Rachel Berry for?

Unfortunately it's kind of hard not to think about her, she's always around, we only have two classes together but her locker is right next to mine and we have the same lunch, and whenever she's in the same room she makes her presence known, like now for instance.

"Good morning Finn," she says as she starts to work out her locker combination, her usual greeting, I answer with a swift nod, my usual greeting.

"You know we're still casting for _Rent_," she continues. "Naturally I'll be portraying Maureen, a very important role, but we still need a Roger."

"And I should care why?" I say under my breath, although I kind of know why, it's not like this is the first time she's tried to get me on board with one of her freak projects.

"Well I think you would be perfect, you certainly have the voice for it, I've seen your band play and you're really good, although you lack my range I'm sure with my help you would be amazing."

I simply roll my eyes, I know she goes to all our band's shows, she thinks I don't notice her there but I do, if only because she's always so out of place, kind of like she is now in her cat sweater, seriously, a fucking cat sweater.

"Thanks but no thanks, it's like I told you before with glee club, and _Little Shop_and _Grease_ that theatre geek shit is social suicide."

"Well I just thought that someone as popular as you are could easily survive the stigma, maybe you could even make it cool, god knows we could use the ticket sales."

"It's not going to happen Berry, sorry."

"Okay, but if you change your mind the next string of auditions are next week."

"And what makes you think I'm going to change my mind?"

"Well appearing in the school play can earn you extra credit points, I know you're failing English so I thought-

I cut her off, slamming her own locker, making her flinch, I'm glad, she needed the jolt to shut her up for five seconds.

"Do you ever mind your own fucking business Berry?" I snap, so pissed off.

"I'm sorry, I just thought-

"That you could once again act like a nosy bitch and I wouldn't say anything about it?" I continue, interrupting her.

"I just thought that maybe you'd like to try something new for once, but I guess your complacency is a result of your life being so perfect that any amount of change is totally unnecessary, which is funny because I always saw you as more of a scared little boy who's so afraid to go against Puckerman and his Neanderthal friends that the very thought of doing something they may not approve of is unfathomable to you."

She's wrong, she's so fucking wrong, she thinks I give a shit about what Puckerman thinks, just because I don't want to have anything to do with some fruity play doesn't mean I'm scared, who the hell does she think she is anyway?

"You're a fucking freak Berry you know that?" I seethe. "Do you realize that? You think starring in some bullshit play is the first step to being famous, wake the shit up." I slam my own locker then and march off, not sure where the lump in my throat came from.

* * *

Football practice can't come soon enough, when I'm playing my head is clear, I don't have to think about school, or my family or Rachel Berry and her irritating habit of thinking she has me all figured out when she has no idea, how many times do I have to tell her to fuck off before she gets the message anyway, what is it about me that makes her think I give a shit about being in one of those stupid plays, because I'm in a band, well guys in bands are cool, they get chicks and respect, what the hell do zeros like Rachel Berry and Blaine Anderson get except for slushied on the daily?

As always I'm the first one there, and I savor the silence until my fellow jocks pile in, and I try not to think about Rachel but I can't because she drives me absolutely up the fucking wall with her bullshit.

"Hey Hudson you got a second?" it's Karofsky, and he looks serious, troubled, like I've never seen him before.

"What's eating you Dave?" I ask, and at that he darts his eyes back and forth and leans in closer.

"Brittany Pierce, yesterday behind the bleachers." He says in a low whisper, and my eyes go wide at the confession, because I seriously can not believe it, sure Dave's always going on about all of the cheerleaders he fucks, but Brittany Pierce?" Not even she's that stupid.

"Are you fucking insane dude?" I seethe. "Do you have some sort of death wish?"

"I know, I know, I shouldn't have done it, but I'm weak dude, I'm so fucking weak."

"That's Santana's girl Dave, she's our friend, not to mention the fact that nothing's going to stop her from running you down with her car if she finds out, you know she's got anger issues dude."

"Don't you think I know that," he says frantically. "Why do you think I need your help?"

"What do you expect me to do?" I say, annoyed.

"Santana can't know about this."

"Then I wouldn't go spreading it around," I say unsympathetically. "You're lucky I don't tell her myself, that was seriously a dick move man."

"I know and I'm sorry, but I can't take it back, all I can do is stop this from getting out of hand, but I need your help."

"Why?"

"You're not the only one who knows dude," he says a bit cryptically.

"Who else?" I ask, knitting my brow in contemplation.

"You know that bitch Rachel Berry?" he says even more quietly.

"Don't get me started," I say, rolling my eyes. "How did she find out?"

"I didn't think anybody was around," he explains. "I thought everyone went home, but all of a sudden there she is, I guess she was just getting out of gleetard practice and she was cutting throughout the field to get home and she saw everything, and you know she's going to tell because she can never keep her fucking mouth shut."

"I know better than anyone, but I still don't know what you expect me to do about it."

He darts his eyes again and leans in closer. "Me, Puck and Azimio are going to pay a little visit to the auditorium tonight, she's going to be there rehearsing for her stupid play, it'll be dark and she'll be all alone..."

"Just what are you suggesting?" I say, furrowing my brow in suspicion.

"That the four of us scare the shit out of her to keep her from talking, that's what."

"Oh," I say, a bit relieved, the way he was going I expected much worse. "I don't know man, she doesn't exactly seem like the type that we can intimidate."

"Don't you think it's worth trying if it means saving my ass?" He argues. "Besides when have we ever really needed a reason to fuck with Rachel Berry anyway?"

He has a point, the chance to take Rachel down a peg is always tempting, still, something about this doesn't seem right.

"Forget it man, you made your own bed," I say after a few moments of contemplation.

"Do you honestly think Santana won't be pissed at you too?" he says. "if she finds out she'll know that you knew about this and didn't tell her."

"I didn't want to know about this," I shoot back, raising my voice a little.

"I know you're not going to tell her," Karofsky presses on. "You don't have the heart to let Santana know that her girlfriend's a cheating slut."

Goddamnit, he's right, not only is it not my place to tell Santana the truth, in spite of everything I don't want to see her get hurt. She loves Brittany, this will pretty much kill her.

"What do you need me for anyway?" I ask.

"You're the smart one," Dave says simply. "Besides, you're my friend, you're supposed to have my back on stuff like this."

"Fine," I say, relenting. "I'll help, but you owe me so big for this."

"Thanks man," Dave replies gratefully. "Meet us at the auditorium at seven."

* * *

I can't help but think the masks are a little cheesy, like something out of a bad horror movie, but Dave insists, like he insists that I hold the knife, it's plastic but it looks real, and I'm the tallest and therefore the most intimidating. I'm not worried about her knowing who I am, it's not like this is the first time I've ever played a prank on Rachel, and I can't imagine Dave is worried either, he's using his own cell phone to make the call, and seriously, who else would give a shit about Dave nailing Brittany and trying to keep it from Santana, so again, why the masks?

"What's with the masks dude?" I finally say.

"They're scary, that's the whole point," Dave explains.

"They're fucking stupid," I argue.

"Yeah dude," Puck agrees.

"I don't know I think they're kind of pimp," Azimio chimes in.

"The masks stay on," Dave says firmly.

"Whatever dude this is your baby," I say, pulling my mask back on, it's a clown with a manic grin and pointy yellow teeth, and it's the furthest thing from pimp, Puck got off the easiest, his mask is a white face with hollow eyes and staples decorating bloody wounds in the skin.

Me and Dave look through the glass windows in the double doors leading to the auditorium, and there she is at the piano, singing her heart out. It's a song from the show, I know because of all the times Kurt made me watch the movie version.

_There's only us, there's only this, forget regret, or life is yours to miss, no other road, no other way, no day but today._

I press my ear up to the window to hear her better, to hear her loud, clear, beautiful voice accompanied by the piano, it's not the first time I've heard it, she's always singing lead in those glee assemblies, and she's fucking awesome, even I have to admit that, Rachel Berry is a lot of things but she's certainly not full of shit when it comes to her talent. I'm actually a little disappointed when she stops to answer her cell.

"Hey Berry, how's it going?" Dave says into the phone, "A little birdie told me you saw something you weren't supposed to see yesterday, I'm just calling to make sure you're not thinking of running your fat mouth off to anyone."

I can't hear her response, her speaking voice isn't as loud as her singing, but she's clearly annoyed judging by the look on her face right now.

"I know it makes you feel important and shit, being all up in everyone's beeswax all the time, well guess what, all it does is make people want to hurt you, do you realize that you fucking loser?" Dave continues, I can still see her face through the window, she looks upset, I expected her to, but she doesn't look upset as in pissed, she looks more hurt, and I have to admit I'd prefer that she looked pissed.

"By the way," Karofsky starts again. "That's a nice pink sweater you're wearing." At this point I do kind of wish I could hear what she's saying, but I don't have to wish for long, she gets up from the piano bench now, a look of fear on her face as Puck and Azimio try to stifle their laughter. I'll admit that it's funny, or at least I should think that it's funny, but somehow I don't share in their laughter. She's headed for the doors now, that's our cue.

Her face is predictably terrified as she opens the door to see us standing there, me with a shiny blade, flanked by three large men, I expect her to scream helplessly and try to run, and she does run, but not before taking the opportunity to knee Azimio in the groin, we don't take the time to see if he's okay, he screams for us to chase her, and we do, down the halls and out the front doors, the others are laughing maniacally and shouting curse words at her, and she's crying as she runs, horrified, I have to hand it to Dave, it seems to be working, masks and all, when we get to the gym we finally grab her, keeping her from darting through the doors at the end of the room, and she breaks free but we have her cornered, intimidated, tears still beading in her eyes.

"Please, please leave me alone, I won't tell anyone I swear," she cries.

"Not good enough,"Puck says menacingly, and at that she runs again, and we follow, she can't get to the doors so she scales the bleachers and we chase her to the top.

"What do you think we should do with her,"Puck says as she stands there, nowhere to run, crying and panting.

"I don't know," I say. "I think she's learned her lesson."

"Bullshit," Dave says, and he takes my knife at that point, clearly noticing that my heart isn't exactly in this, it's hard for it to be after seeing her cry like that. I may hate her with a passion but I still don't like seeing her cry, I think it reminds me that she's human, which is just plain unsettling.

"Dude what are you doing?" I say as Dave grabs her, placing the fake knife against her throat.

"You wanna die tonight Berry," Dave says.

"Dude stop," I say, removing my mask.

"Finn, Finn please." she pleads.

"What are you doing asshole," Dave barks angrily, and in his distraction she breaks away frantically, and that's when it happens. I know it happens fast, because when I reach out for her she slips right through my fingers, but the image of her falling off of the bleachers seems to happen in slow motion, it's like she's not falling but floating, her long, dark hair fluttering around her face and her limbs flailing loosely, almost gracefully, and before I know it she lands with a sickening crunch and I know she wasn't floating at all.

All I can say are two small, almost silent words as I look down at her tiny, broken body, her leg twisting up in some horribly unnatural way, still, silent.

"Oh god."

_Before any Brittana fans try to crucify me, you should know that the thing with Brittany isn't what you think. Anywhoo, keep an eye out for the continuation of this fic in the next few weeks, or in other words, stay tuned folks!_


	2. Confessions

**By popular demand I've decided to postpone the update of So We Meet Again until tomorrow (or perhaps really late tonight if I feel like it) to bring you the second chapter of this fic. I honestly didn't expect this to be so well-received, I thought people would be turned off by Finn's behavior or the mention of the character death, but instead I've beaten my record for number of reviews for one chapter, thank you for those BTW, also, I think I still feel kind of bad for putting you through that hiatus on my other stories, I can't promise that I'll update this super fast until I finish my Superhero tale, but I'll do my best. And sorry for the short chapter, but considering that you probably weren't expecting me to update in the first place I'm sure you're not too miffed about it. **

I think my heart has stopped beating, I feel like I can't breath, this isn't happening, this can't be happening, she can't be dead. But she's not moving, and I can't tell if she's breathing, and she's not opening her eyes and this can't be happening, I never meant for this to happen. I can't tell what the other guys are saying, I can't hear anything besides the screaming in my own head, and I have to go to her, I have to make sure she's not dead, because she can't be dead. Without a word I frantically dart past them and race down the bleachers like they're on fire, and I kneel down beside her, not knowing what to do or how to help her, just knowing that I have to do something.

"Rachel," I cry in a panic, my voice broken, and I check her pulse, exhaling in relief when I feel it. My first instinct is to take her into my arms, bring her some sort of comfort after what I've done, but I know from first aid not to move her, so I pull out my phone instead.

"Finn what the hell are you doing?" Dave barks.

"She's still alive, I have to get an ambulance," I say, struggling to see the buttons on my phone with hot tears gathering in my eyes.

"We have to get out of here man," Puck says, panicked.

"We can't move her," I explain to them.

"Then let's go, someone will come for her," Dave says.

"I'm not leaving her alone," I say, shaking my head. Go without me,"

"Finn you're going to fry for this if you stay," Puck pleads, but I ignore him, finally dialing 911 on my cell.

"911 what is your emergency?" The calm voice on the other line says, and I take a deep breath, preparing to explain myself.

"My friend, she fell, she fell off the bleachers in the McKinley high gym," I start, it feels weird referring to her as my friend, but it's all I can come up with. "She's unconscious and I think her leg is broken." I can barely hear her words of instruction to me that come next, I think that she says not to move her, and to stay calm, which I already know, all I can really focus on is Rachel and how broken and helpless and small she looks, how is it possible for a girl to be this small? I also pay no mind to the others, more worried about saving their own asses than the fact that we may have killed a girl, I don't pay attention that is until Dave scrambles for Rachel's phone and starts frantically pressing buttons.

"What are you doing?" I seethe.

"I'm erasing my number from her phone, they can't know I was the last one to call her," Dave says pathetically.

"She's still alive," I reason. "She's going to tell them we did this regardless."

"And I'll deny it, it's her word against ours," Dave shoots back. "You were the only one stupid enough to take off the mask."

"Come on man we have to get out of here," Puck repeats before I can respond to Dave. "She'll be fine, they'll take care of her."

"Like I said, go without me," I say again.

"What the hell went down in here?" I turn my head at the sound of Azimio's voice, he must have recovered from Rachel's attack on his balls.

"We gotta go dude," Dave cries as he and Puck collect my mask and knife and any other evidence, and Puck gives me one final pleading look, but I stand firm, and reluctantly he exits the gym, leaving me alone with her.

"It's okay Rachel, you're going to be okay, I promise," I assure the unconscious girl, not able to control the violent, terrified sobs pouring out of me "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I never meant for you to get hurt I swear, just please be okay, please, please be okay Rachel."

She doesn't wake up, and, I wish I could die.

* * *

She's still out when we reach the hospital and I can't take not knowing if she's alright. As I suspect the cops talk to me about what happened, I don't give too many details, and they don't appear to suspect anything, it's not uncommon for students with extracurriculars like me and Rachel to be on school grounds after hours, and there were a few faculty members there as well, although none of them saw or heard anything. I can't say why I don't just offer them the full story, it's not as if she won't tell them anyway, but I think admitting to them what went down tonight just makes the whole thing seem too real, besides, Rachel's dads are out of town on business, stuck there until they can get a flight out. Someone has to stay with her in case she wakes up, and that certainly can't be me if they take me to jail, she has no real friends and no close family nearby, at least not any that me or the hospital can get into contact with right now, it's just me.

They let me wait with her while she sleeps, they say her condition is stable for now, but they can't know more until she wakes up, I don't like seeing her this way, it's no secret that she's not my favorite person, but to see someone who is usually so full of energy and life and words, reduced to this still, quiet version of herself, I don't like it at all. It's strange but even when she's sleeping I can't help but feel hard and tense around her. But I know that I should be doing something comforting, something to reach her in a positive way wherever she is right now, so I slowly and hesitantly reach for her hand. It's soft and warm and so small that it completely disappears in my own giant one.

"I don't know what to say to you," I start, still choked up because I'm still terrified that she won't wake up because of me, and I think of someone else who didn't wake up and it makes me even angrier and guiltier and terrified that I've become just like them. She didn't do a damn thing to deserve this, sure she's annoying but she didn't deserve this. I try to continue, just keep talking even if I'm not sure what I'm saying makes any sense.

"You didn't deserve this," I continue. "I didn't want you to get hurt I swear, I just- I mean I..."

I take a deep breath as I search for more words, and I squeeze her hand tighter as she continues to lay so still.

"I know you think I hate you, and maybe I do," I continue. "But the thing is, you'd be pretty fucking hard pressed to find someone that I don't hate. Do you really think I give a shit about those assholes I hang around with? Well I don't. It's just being popular, being liked, it's the only thing I have. I could be like you, I could be special, and just say fuck the world because things will get better after high school, but they won't, they won't for him, not anymore, and they sure as hell won't for me so what's the goddamned point?"

She's still silent, still unmoving, still not squeezing my hand back.

"You're not hearing any of this are you?" I say, chuckling a little though my tears. "It doesn't even matter what I say does it?"

Still silent, still not moving.

"I think about you when I jerk off sometimes, did you know that?" I say next, after a few silent moments, not really knowing why. "I know I should be thinking about my girlfriend but I think about you, about how you're so tiny, and I wonder sometimes if I'd even fit inside. And I wonder what that voice of yours sounds like when you come, and I bet it's like music. And I think about what you look like naked, I picture myself taking your clothes off real slow until there's nothing left but you, and then I lay you down and fuck your brains out for hours and hours."

Her eyelashes don't even flutter.

"I had this dream about you once, I was Captain Kirk and you were one of those hot Orion chicks with the green skin, and we fucked on the moon and while we were fucking you sang to me. It was Life On Mars by David Bowie, I remember because I thought it was weird that you were singing a song about Mars when we were on the Moon, and I didn't understand how an Orion girl would have even heard of David Bowie. All I know is when I woke up I was so hard that it hurt and I had to get myself off right away because I felt like I was going to die if I didn't come right the fuck then," I continue.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this. Probably because you can't hear me, and I've never been able to say it out loud before."

I squeeze her hand tighter, she doesn't squeeze back.

"Please wake up Rachel, please," I plead, the tears returning. "Please don't die okay?" I collapse then, crying into her shoulder, still holding her hand, mumbling nonsense, still begging her to wake the fuck up, crying harder when she doesn't, not able to stop.

I fall asleep with her hand grasped in mine.

**Stay tuned folks!**


	3. Guilty Conscience

**Well, so much for a preview...**

I'm not sure how late it is, how long I've been sleeping, I can imagine not too long as I'm stirred awake by a hand gently shaking my shoulder, I'm not too groggy, it only takes a moment to remember what brought me here, and why I'm laying againt a hospital bed holding Rachel Berry's hand in mine. She's still sleeping, and I rub my forehead in frustration at the realization, I had hoped for a moment it was her shaking me awake, so at least I could have that much off my conscience before they throw me in jail. I wonder what I'll be charged with, reckless endangerment most likely, depending on how bad off she is, the doctor says there was no sign of permanent serious brain damage from what she could see, that's a good thing, still, she hasn't woken up, I check my watch, it's 9:15, she's been out for almost two hours.

"Finn Hudson," a strong, sad voice says from behind, and he turns to face the man who shook him awake, he's tall with silver hair and thick rimmed glasses, and aside from the height he looks a good deal like Rachel.

"Mr. Berry?" I guess, and he nods. His eyes are bloodshot, as if he's been crying, because of course he has. "You got back fast."

"It's only a half hour flight from Cleveland," he explains, and when you get a call that your daughter is in the hospital, you tend to move fast."

"I think she's going to be okay," I say desperately, as if I'm trying to convince myself more than him. "The doctor says she's stable, stable's good right?"

His expression doesn't change, and I swallow hard.

"Listen Finn, thank you for staying with her, but we've got it from here, my husband is speaking with her doctor now. You can go on home."

"I'd rather stay," I say, my voice cracking. "I just... I need to know that she's alright."

"I guess it would take seeing her get hurt like this for you to consider my daughter's well-being," he says, his voice hard.

"I don't, I mean," I can't find the words, because what could I possibly say, of course her dads would know all about me, about the names, and the pranks and all of the other crap we've pulled on the so-called losers, on Rachel.

"I'm sorry," is all I can manage to say.

"Why?" He says coldly. "what changed? You clearly weren't sorry for whatever you said to my daughter this afternoon to make her call me up in tears."

"Mr. Berry-

"You know it's funny Finn,"he interrupts. "As little as two years ago, the way Rachel used to talk about you, I thought that maybe you were one of the good ones. What must have went so wrong in your life that you can't find anything better to do than victimize my little girl?"

She meddles, she's always meddling, always trying to fix me, motivate me toward some stupid dream that I don't even want anymore, like she knows me or somethig. She'sjust like him, just like...

"I really want to know," Mr. Berry says, snapping me back into the conversation. "What gives you the right?"

There are tears beading in my eyes now, and I want nothing more than for them to go away, this can't happen now, not in front of him. I don't even know this man, all I know is that his daughter is laying in a hospital bed because of me and it makes me feel sick.

"Finn?" Mr. Berry continues, his voice a little softer.

"I'm sorry about Rachel," I say, my voice choked with unshed tears, and I cut past him then, rushing out of that hospital as fast as I can.

The tears don't let up until I fall asleep that night, and dream about clown masks and plastic knives and a a tiny girl slipping through my fingers, and heavy black boots stomping a fifteen year old boy's bloody face while he screams for me to help him.

* * *

I'll tell my mom first, she'll drive me to the police, at least I won't have to go to school today. She looks the way she always does these days, like she's trying so desperately to hide the fact that she's miserable that she doesn't show any emotion at all.

"Hey," I say quietly, as I take a seat next to her at the kitchen counter. She doesn't look up, and I place a light kiss on her cheek, hoping to get at least some hint of a smile out of her, she manages a weak one, and I suppose it's good enough all things considered.

"Mom, there's something I have to tell you," I say hesitantly.

"Is this about why you were out past curfew on a school night mister?" she says sternly.

"kind of," I admit. "mom, I did something bad last night, I thought I should be the first to tell you-

I'm cut off by my cell phone ringing, and although the concerned look on my mother's face right now makes me want to ignore it, the name on the caller ID makes it impossible.

"I'll be right back," I say, leaving the room too fast to hear my mother's protest, because Hiram Berry calling my phone could only mean one of two things, Rachel is either awake or dead, I pray to god it's not the second thing, even though if it isn't I don't even want to think about the words he has for me, if she's awake she will have told him everything.

Don't be a coward, I say to myself, and I breath deep and answer the phone.

"Mr. Berry?" I say hesitantly into the phone.

"Finn, he says darkly, an edge in his voice that suggests severe dislike for me, but not any more than the night before. "I got your number from the hospital forms. I called to let you know that Rachel is awake now."

I breath a low sigh of relief, she's awake, if there is a god I owe him big, but I'm not just relieved that I don't have to carry the guilt of killing a girl on my shoulders for the rest of my life, because the truth is I still feel plenty guilty regardless, I'm truly happy that she's alive, even if it means her father is going to kill me.

"Is she okay?" I ask next. "I mean, is she going to be okay?"

"She's going to be fine, her brain function is normal, and her leg should make a full recovery with some physical therapy," he assures me, his voice still cold but not angry, and I wonder why he's not angry.

"There's only one thing that the doctors are concerned about," He continues, and the feelings of relief are once again replaced by dread. "She doesn't seem to remember how it happened."

I knit my brow in confusion, she doesn't remember? How could that be possible, how could somebody forget something like that, unless...

"Are you saying she has amnesia?" I ask, concerned.

"No, she remembers everything else, just not the accident, or even what she was doing in the gym, the doctors say it's common for patients who've suffered some sort of trauma.

Trauma, that was putting it mildly. I can't believe this, she has no memory of last night, none at all, and I should feel like the luckiest sonofabitch alive, but instead I don't know how to feel at all.

"Thank you," I say, my voice rusty. "For calling me."

"I thought I would put your mind at ease," he explains. "You seemed pretty worried last night."

"Yeah," I say simply.

"So, I better let you get ready for school," he continues.

"Wait," I say before he can hang up. "Can I talk to her?"

He hesitates for a moment, and he doesn't have to speak for me to know his answer.

"I don't think that's a very good idea Finn," he says. "She doesn't know that you helped her last night, and I think it should stay that way. I don't want Rachel to get any confused feelings. I think you can understand that."

I swallow hard as it dawns on me, or perhaps I already knew, but just had no idea what to do about it.

_the way Rachel used to talk about you, I thought that maybe you were one of the good ones_

She liked me once, really liked me, and maybe in some messed up way she still does, no wonder why she never gets off my back, underneath all of the bravado and obnoxious overconfidence, she's still just a teenaged girl.

"If you don't want her to know I won't tell her," I say quietly. "I'm just glad she's alright."

"And I'm glad we understand each other," he replies in That cold voice. "Goodbye Mr. Hudson."

"Goodbye," I say, but he's already hung up.

She's out of school for an entire week, and I spend the whole week staring at her empty chair in both of our shared classes. I can't stop thinking about her, about the fall, the way her hand slipped so quickly through mine, about how if I was just a split second faster I may have stopped it. And I think every day about about going to that hospital and telling her everything, but I know the guys will beat the living shit out of me if I did, word spread fast through the group about her convenient memory loss, and while they do their inward happy dances, so relieved to be off the hook, I can't help but feel like I'm dying a little inside every second. I avoid the guys, ignoring their phone calls and texts, not saying two words to them in the gym or in class, it's easier than I thought it would be. As long as I keep it quiet, I can be as sullen and distant as I want, I think they're afraid of bringing it up, I'm sure they know I'm not their biggest fans after they ditched me, so they don't push me, and I couldn't care less.

The day she finally hobbles back to school on her crutches, her leg wrapped in a pink plaster cast, her face blank, I forget how to breathe for a few terrifying moments. I keep my distance, watching her as she maneuvers her way down the hall, opens her locker and removes her book for first period, everything a struggle, it makes me feel like crap, and even more so when she drops it in an attempt to shut her locker again. She sighs in defeat and bends to pick it up, not able to reach and still stay on her feet. Nobody seems to care, or even notice, except that dumb puckhead with the mullet, Rick the Stick, who sees it as the perfect opportunity to amuse himself by kicking it down the hall.

"Whoops," he says, shrugging as he walks backward from her, enjoying the defeated look on her face. I should help her, somebody should, maybe in any other situation I'd walk away, unfeeling, but I can't, I see her standing against her locker, trying to keep her tears at bay, trying to stay strong, and failing because she's just so goddamn alone, and whether she brought it upon herself with her somewhat obnoxious nature or not, it doesn't make it any less painful.

I wonder if seeing my face again will trigger something in her memory, whether she'll start pointing and screaming for Figgins, but I risk it, picking up the book and approaching her slowly, just looking at her for a moment until she notices that I'm standing here, watching her quietly break down for awhile, her long hair is pinned up away from her face and neatly curled under at the ends, and she looks so young, and finally she looks at me, her eyes wide, and I wordlessly hand the book to her. She takes it hesitantly, as if she's afraid something bad is about to happen because she made the decision to trust me briefly.

"Thank you," she says under her breath, and I say nothing back, because I can't manage any words, I just walk past her, disappearing down the hall.

It goes on like this for the rest of the day, I don't speak to her, because I can't, and I keep looking at her because I can't not. I know that she's okay, that she's going to be fine, but the guilt nags at me like a grater on my nerves and I can't ignore it, I can't ignore how miserable she looks and I wonder to myself if she always looks that way and I've just always refused to notice. I can't figure out what my head is doing to me, the other guys seem fine, like that night is already a distant memory, while I can't shake it no matter what I do. When the bell rings, signaling the end of class I'm actually startled, so deep in my own thoughts as I stared at her profile, watching her take her notes in her girly script and I continue to watch as she clomps out of the room. I get up a moment later, ready to be done with today, done with the flood of foreign, uncomfortable feelings I get when I look at the girl I almost accidentally killed, but before I can get too far I hear Mr. Schue behind me, calling for me to stay.

I turn wordlessly to face him. If I had to be honest, Mr. Schue wasn't such a bad guy, he was a bit of a dork but nice overall, nice enough that I sometimes did feel sort of bad about the fact that his class was the only one that I was getting a hard F in.

"Finn, I had some concerns about your midterm," he says hesitantly.

"Mr. Schue I know what you're going to say and I really don't need to hear it, not today," I say.

"Finn I know that you've been through some issues that you don't like to talk about, but sooner or later you're going to have to deal with them. Ms. Pillsbury agrees-

"You talked to the school shrink about me?" I interrupt, narrowing my eyes at him, I knew he would, they always did.

"I know some teachers are happy to stand idly by why their students are in trouble, but I'm not one of those teachers. I talked to Ms. Pilsbury because I'm worried about you, your grades, your attitude, and this isn't even mentioning the bullying."

"I'm not a bully," I say, defensively, I'm not, I don't beat kids up, that's Puckerman's thing.

"No, you aren't Finn," Mr. Schue agrees, and I certainly wasn't expecting that. "Not the kid I used to know anyway, you used to be such a bright, happy kid Finn, and I know that kid is still in there somewhere."

"Do we really have to talk about this right now? You're my English teacher not my-

"Fine," Mr. schue says, cutting me off. "You want to talk about English, let's talk about you failing your last three exams Finn, what is it, do you just not care?"

"Maybe I don't," I say shrugging.

"That's very disappointing Finn," Mr. Schue says, shaking his head.

"Can I go?" I say.

"Sure," Mr. Schue sighs. "But this isn't over Finn."

As I exit Mr. Schue's I see she's at her locker again, in the all but empty school hallway, ready to put her probably awful day behind her, and if I didn't have to get my stuff out of my own locker I'd probably bail. But instead I breath deep and go to my locker, entering my combination and avoiding eye contact.

"Okay," she says, slamming her locker, making me jump. "What's with you today?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie.

"You've been staring at me like some sort of creeper all day."

"No I haven't," I lie again.

"Finn if this is one of your attempts to screw with me I want you to know that I don't appreciate it, I've had a truly abysmal day on top of a horrific week and you're not helping,why don't you go join your chromosomally challenged friends and leave me be while I...

She goes on like this, and I don't know what the hell to do, whether to walk away or apologize or just stand there and take it. But what I actually do is so unexpected that even I can't process what's happening until my lips are already on hers, and my hands are tangled in her hair, and she's pushing her hands against my chest until finally they become still against me, and I kiss her harder, with desperation and need and I realize there are tears in my eyes as my lips move over hers, and I think I would go on like this, because her lips are so damn soft that it's ridiculous, but finally she pushes me away, an utterly confused look on her face.

"I have to..." I trail off, not knowing what to say, still not entirely sure what the hell just happened. And without another word, I walk out of there as fast as I can.

**I just realized now that Finn and Rachel's relationship here is a lot like Kurtofsky, I wonder what that says about me. Anyway, stay tuned folks!**


	4. Thick Skin

I keep replaying the kiss in my mind, how it felt, tasted, what possessed me to do it. I still don't know, it's as if I had no control over what my own body was doing, like everything I was feeling right then while she chewed me out just exploded all over her, and not in the angry way it usually does. I kissed her, I kissed Rachel Berry, the girl everyone hated including me. I kissed her and all I can think about now is how much I want to do it again. It's so simple, I'm such a guilty wreck over what we did to Rachel that I can't control my emotions around her, my head is such a mess over that night I can't separate the me that can't stand her and the me that wants to tear her goddamn clothes off anymore. And the fact that I actually know what it's like to kiss Rachel Berry, to feel her mouth against mine while that compact body of hers is pressed up against a locker, it makes it that much harder to keep that part of myself deep inside where it belongs.

I have to stay away from Rachel, maybe I can get Figgins to assign me a new locker, it's only halfway into the semester, maybe I can switch classes. Student athletes always get special treatment, it's probably why I'm only failing one class. I have to do whatever it takes to keep my distance from her, because I can't look at her anymore without picturing her falling off of those bleachers, and it's not like I can talk to anyone about it, especially not her, I won't feel this way forever. The guilt will pass, but until then I have to keep my distance. Besides, I have Quinn, Quinn's hot, she's popular, she's confident, she's also sort of mean but it's fine. Whatever she is, she's my girlfriend, she's the only one I should be kissing, the only one I should even be thinking about kissing. I haven't spoken to her since that night, I haven't spoken to anyone really, but after that kiss I have to call her, I need something to distract me from how soft and plump and sweet Rachel's mouth is, and as I start to think about it again, about _her_ again, I pull out my cell phone and dial Quinn's number.

"Hey babe," I respond to her cold greeting.

"Is there a reason you're calling me out of the blue after ignoring me all week Finn?" she says.

"Sorry, I've just... It's been kind of a rough week," I say truthfully.

"What do you want? I'm busy," she says in the same cold tone.

"I just thought that maybe I could come over, you know just to hang out or whatever."

"I told you I'm busy," she repeats.

"well, what are you doing?" I say desperately, "Maybe I can help you."

"I'm going shopping, I need a dress for homecoming."

"I can help with that," I insist, even though that's the last thing I feel like doing right now.

"Finn, you're my date, you can't see what I'm going to be wearing," Quinn says. "Besides I'm going with Santana."

"Well, maybe we can get together afterward," I say, the same desperation in my voice that I really should be trying harder to hide.

"Finn, is everything okay?" Quinn says with a tone that's more annoyed than concerned.

Aside from the fact that I kissed another girl, the same girl that I've spent the last two years hating, the same girl I almost killed, the same girl I can't stop thinking about no matter how hard I try, I'm fine.

"I'm fine, I just want to see you," I explain.

"Well you can see me tomorrow after school," Quinn says. "We can go shopping for your tux, nobody cares what the guy's wearing."

"Okay, well I'll see you tomorrow," I agree, and she hangs up before I can say a real goodbye.

I keep my head down going into school the next day, I know that Rachel is going to be looking for me, she must be after an explanation of some kind. I can't give her one, I can't even think of a phony one. It will be so much easier if I can avoid her altogether, but I know that's going to be impossible. I try to get the books out of my locker as fast as I can, before I can hear her clomping down the hallway, but before I can even shut it and be on my way I hear the familiar sound of crutches on the linoleum. I turn quickly, hoping to dart to class before she can talk to me, no such luck.

"Who put you up to it Finn?" she says, her voice hard.

I simply turn reluctantly and look at her in confusion.

"I'm waiting," she continues, fire behind her big brown eyes,

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I lie, I do have a bit of an idea what she's talking about.

"Why did you kiss me?" she clarifies. "Was it some sort of dare? Did Karofsky put you up to it?"

I so should have stayed at home, I think to myself.

"Yeah," I say after awhile, just because it's easier than the truth, the truth I really don't even understand myself. "He paid me fifty bucks."

She bites her lip then and nods sharply in understanding. "I guess I should be flattered it wasn't a hundred, right?" her voice breaks as she says it, and I have to admit it puts me off, Rachel doesn't let things like this get to her, she never has, but this is the second time I've seen her cry this week.

"Are you okay?" I say gently.

"Why do you care?" she says tearfully before continuing down the hall.

I don't know why I'm doing this, where the urge to follow her comes from, but I can't fight it, I sigh deeply and shut my locker and catch up to her.

"Rachel, wait a minute," I say, stopping her, and she looks at me again, and she seems to have pulled herself together a little, but she still looks pissed. "I mean, come on, it's not like this is the first time we've pulled something like this."

"I know," she says, nodding. "I should just accept it right? Grow a thicker skin? I'm sure you think what you do doesn't affect me because I exude confidence and speak my mind, but...

She stops, and I can tell it's because she's trying not to cry again.

"Look Rachel I'm-

"I guess that kiss just felt sort of... Real," she continues, still choked up. "You're a really good actor Finn."

Stop this, I think to myself, stop making me care, just stop it, I can't handle this, I can't.

"Look, just leave me alone, please," she says, not as angrily as I would have expected. "I know it makes you feel superior to treat me like dirt but I can't do this anymore. If you want me to keep to myself then I will, I won't bother you again about plays or glee club, or your grades or anything, just please, please leave me alone."

I can't say anything, I just swallow hard and nod.

"Okay, so that's it then," she says, quickly wiping away a single tear that has broken free before turning again, but she doesn't get too far down the hall before the Puckhead strikes again, he tries to be subtle about it, but I can see him stick his leg out, purposely sweeping one of Rachel's crutches out from under her, sending her to the floor in an instant, and as I watch her fall and hear the sounds of stifled laughter from the other kids, my mind once again goes to that night, watching her fall in slow motion, hearing the bone snap like a pool cue, and a sudden uncontrollable anger fills me, making my blood boil, and I don't know who I'm angrier at, Rick or myself, either way it's him I have slammed up against his locker, it's him I'm shouting at, it's him I'm threatening.

"What the fuck is your problem? She's on crutches you asshole!" I scream, right in his face.

"Chill out dude, it was a joke," He pleads, his face scared. "Look at her, she's fine."

"Stay the fuck away from her!" I say, slamming him again, paying no mind to the attention I've attracted from the other students.

"Okay!" Rick says, the look on his face suggesting he's just about crapped his pants. "Calm the fuck down Hudson."

At that I set him free, and turn to Rachel, still on the ground, once again in tears that she can't control.

"Are you alright?" I say, crouching down beside her. And she looks at me like I have a second head, but I don't care. And I don't know why she does it, maybe just because she needs someone to hug, and I'm the closest one, so she does, and I know they're looking but I hug her back, letting her cry in my arms.

"It's okay," I say, darting my eyes back and forth, looking at the confused faces of the students.

"what the hell are you looking at? Go to class," I say sharply, and finally they scatter.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says, breaking the embrace. "I didn't mean to hug you I just-

"It's fine," I cut in. "Come on, let me help you up."

I help get her upright and she faces me with a nervous look in her eyes, and I know she's confused about why I defended her, why I let her hug me, the truth is I'm confused to.

"I'm late," she says, breaking the uncomfortable silence between us. "But I... Thank you Finn," she turns around then, ready to go to class, but not before once again turning around to face me

"I'm not usually this much of an emotional wreck," she says, not exactly what I was expecting. "I mean, I am a drama queen, I think everyone knows that, but I don't usually let people like Rick get to me, I'm stronger than that."

"I know," I reply, thinking she's saying everything I was just thinking about her.

"It's not him, or even you," she continues. "I've just been really upset lately I guess, with my leg and, well..."

"What?" I say, urging her on.

"You're going to think it's stupid," she says. "You think everything I care about is stupid."

I can't say I blame her for thinking that.

"Look, I'm not going to make fun of you," I say, my tone annoyed and frustrated. "Just tell me."

"They're canceling the play," she explains. "Nobody else auditioned, no Roger, no play, that's that, After everything I went through, all of the petitioning and fund raising, and threats of going to the ACLU I did to bring it to the school, it's over. I think they were just looking for a reason to pull the plug considering the subject matter, I just really wanted this Finn. I know that it doesn't matter to you, but when I'm on that stage, it's the only time I don't feel like a loser."

She turns again and disappears down the hall before I can say anything else. She's doing it again, making me give a shit when I don't want to, because even though we've always done everything in our power to remind Rachel that she's a loser, I never for a second thought that she actually believed it.

"Fuck," I say under my breath.

* * *

I don't think I've ever been more bored in my life as I try on what feels like the five hundredth tuxedo jacket, but I can tell by Quinn's face that it's still not quite right.

"Your build is so weird," she says, yanking off the unacceptable jacket and grabbing another.

"I thought nobody cared about what the guys were wearing," I groan.

"Excuse me for wanting my date to look halfway decent," she replies. "Try this one."

I take the jacket and pull it on, thinking it looks exactly the same as all of the others.

"Oh my god, speaking of fashion did you see the monstrosity that Rachel Berry was wearing today? Does she even own anything without some sort of animal on it? I swear to god that girl is going to get eaten alive in college."

"She already does," I sigh guiltily.

"Even still, I'd feel sorry for her if she weren't so obnoxious," Quinn continues.

"Can we not talk about Rachel?" I say, a bit snappishly.

"Okay, no need to jump down my throat."

"It's just boring," I explain. "I mean how much can you really talk about one girl?"

"Well you have to admit she provides plenty of priceless material," Quinn says, shrugging. "Try this one."

I take the jacket and put it on, glad to be getting back to the subject, even if I hated talking about jackets it was a lot less painful than talking about Rachel, it was bad enough that I couldn't get her off my mind for a second.

"I like this one." I say.

"Good, let's see if they have it in black."

"actually the color's kind of what I like about it," I protest, admiring the deep blue color.

"You can't wear blue, I'm wearing champagne, it'll clash."

"You don't have to stand next to me if you don't want to," I say a bit coldly.

"You're kidding right?" she says, narrowing her eyes, and I only shoot her a look.

"what's with you lately?" she spits. "you ignore me for days, you won't talk to your friends, did something happen?"

"No, I just want to wear a blue tux," I shoot back in frustration. "The last time I checked that doesn't make me the devil."

"Fine, get the tux," she says angrily.

"Alright."

"Okay," I remove the jacket then, and turn to look at Quinn, she still looks pissed off, but at least we don't have to do anymore shopping.

"Okay, now we need to find you some shoes," she says, and I roll my eyes.

"Quinn?" I say, knitting my brow as we head to the shoe department. I've been wanting to bring this up for awhile, maybe because if I can get Quinn to not think I'm a freak for considering this then I can convince anyone. "Do you like my voice? I mean, do you think I'm a good singer?"

"what brought this on?" she says, stopping in her tracks.

"I just want to know what you think, do you think I'm good?"

"Sure," she says, shrugging. "I mean, you know I've always enjoyed your little band. Why?"

I swallow hard before I continue because I know that the words that are going to come out of my mouth next are going to cause world war three to break out in the middle of this mall, but it has to be said.

"I think I'm going to try out for the school musical."

_Stay Tuned Folks!_


	5. Extra Credit

"Excuse me, did I hear you correctly?" Quinn says, her angry gaze burning into me.

"Yes," I say, swallowing hard. "I want to try out for the play."

I know I must look crazy to her, I don't blame her, but I thought about it long and hard, and I need something, anything to make me feel just a little bit less shitty about what we did to Rachel. I know it's not exactly selfless, the selfless thing would be to turn myself in, but I have to think of it from her point of view, if I get the part then this play, the one she tried so hard getting off the ground, the thing that's pretty much her whole life, will be saved. So as much as the thought of singing on stage in front of the whole school makes me want to kill myself, I have to do this, I have to make this up to her somehow, and I'll do whatever it takes to make Quinn understand. Besides, if I had to have a part in a musical Roger would be my second choice after Stacee Jaxx. So it's not all bad.

"Finn are you insane?" Quinn snaps. "Do you realize what this will do to your reputation? I mean, it's-

"Social suicide, I know," I sigh.

"Then why?" Quinn asks. "Give me one good reason, I mean if this is about Kurt, believe me I understand but come on I'm sure even he wouldn't want you to throw away your senior year like this when you're shoo in for homecoming King."

"It isn't about Kurt," I say darkly, my eyes still prickling a bit at the mention of his name.

"Then why? I get the urge to express yourself artistically, but I thought that was the whole point of your band."

"It's Puckerman's band," I explain. "Besides it's not about that either."

"Then what, talk to me," Quinn says, her voice losing a bit of its hard edge."

"Quinn if I tell you something then do you promise you'll take it to your grave?" I say a bit desperately, and she takes a silent step back, her face hard to read.

"Finn you're starting to scare me a little," Quinn says. "What did you do?"

I exhale sharply, needing to get this out, needing to talk to someone about it before the secret strangles me.

"You know about Rachel, how she got hurt?"

"Yeah I've seen the cast," she says. "What does that have to do with any of this?"

"It was a prank, a stupid prank and I never should have done it and we never meant for her to get hurt, everything just happened so fast and things got completely out of hand..." as I explain that horrible night to her I can feel hot tears in my eyes, and I can hear my own voice breaking with each labored word.

"Wait, you did that to her?" Quinn says, narrowing her eyes in disbelief. "And she knows, is she blackmailing you?"

"No, she doesn't remember what happened," I explain, rubbing my forehead in frustration

"Okay," Quinn says, relieved. "then there's nothing to worry about right? No need to trash your rep over nothing."

"Were you even listening?" I snap. "We almost killed a perfectly innocent girl, that's not nothing."

"Innocent? Rachel Berry is a nightmare," Quinn says. "You complain about her more than anyone, if I didn't know any better I'd think you were obsessed with her or something."

"I may not like her very much but I didn't mean for her to get hurt, I didn't," I'm still crying, the tears won't stop, but she remains like stone as she looks at me.

"Pull yourself together Finn, it was an accident," She says. "And Rachel is fine, she'll heal. If there's anything to take away from this it's to cut it out with the juvenile pranks."

"You don't understand, if they don't find a male lead they're going to cut the show," he explains. "First I hurt Rachel now they're cutting this show and it means everything to her, if I can save it for her shouldn't I? I mean after what I did I owe her that much."

"Finn is this really about your guilt? Tell me the truth," Quinn says.

I wasn't expecting her to ask me that, not at all.

"I told you why," I say, my jaw tight.

"Finn, I realize this means a lot to her, but do you realize how much being homecoming Queen means to me?" she says pleadingly. "If I win this they'll be practically taking my measurements for the prom queen tiara, and you're actually telling me that you'd be willing to take all of that away from me for someone you don't even like?"

"Quinn this has nothing to do with you, it's just something I need to do, please try to understand."

I can tell by her face that I haven't gotten through to her, it doesn't matter, I've made my decision.

"Okay, if you want to flush your homecoming court chances down the toilet go right ahead, nobody's forcing me to go with you."

"Wait," I say, knitting my brow in confusion. "Are you dumping me?"

"When you decide that your girlfriend's wishes are more important than the pathetic little dreams of some obnoxious hobbit then we'll talk."

She marches out without another word, and I can't understand why I don't go after her, why I don't feel more right now.

* * *

My leg shakes uncontrollably as I wait for Mr. Schue's class to let out, I don't even know how to begin to approach him with this, he's going to have questions, because of course he would be suspicious about the student who's spent every day for the last two years not giving a shit about anything, suddenly going out for the school musical, but I look at Rachel again, her face still so miserable, and I know that I have to do this. Maybe Quinn is right, maybe it's not just about clearing my conscience, maybe part of it really is about Kurt, the way everything has kind of been about Kurt ever since that day, whether I want to admit it to even myself. Or maybe it's just about Rachel Berry, not the Rachel Berry that I put in a cast, but just Rachel, and Rachel's thighs, and Rachel's thighs in that skirt, and me in between Rachel's thighs, and her lips, her smooth soft lips that taste like strawberries, her lips against mine, my lips trailing down her neck, smelling her perfume, her hands, touching me through my jeans and my hands under that skirt, feeling her wetness on my fingers, feeling her tremble as I touch her...

I flinch a little as the bell rings, signaling the end of class, and I take a moment to compose myself before I stand.

"Mr. Schue, can we talk?" I say, meeting him at his desk.

"What's on your mind Finn?" he says, smiling weakly at me.

"Well, this is going to sound strange, really strange," I start, trying to find the words.

"Finn, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," I insist. "I heard from Rachel that I could get extra credit by taking a part in the school play."

"That's true," he says. "I guess it's my sly way of trying to promote the arts, but I guess it didn't work, not enough boys tried out for the play, without one of our male leads cast there's nothing we can do, play's over."

"Well what if someone did try out, like today, and they were really good, good enough for the part, would the play still be cancelled?"

"Of course not but I really don't see that happening unless... Wait, do you know someone who's interesting in trying out for the part of Roger?"

"Yeah," I say hesitantly. "Me."

The look on his face at my words is about what I'd expect, but I bite my lip, standing my ground.

"You?" Mr. Schue says in disbelief. "I didn't even know you were interested in acting."

"I'm not," I say. "But if I fail they won't let me play football anymore." It's true, but that isn't the reason I'm doing this, if I wanted to avoid getting kicked off the team I could easily pay one of the nerdy kids to do my homework for me for the rest of the semester and cheat on the final.

"Finn, I'm glad you're finally showing some concern about your grade, but it isn't as easy as me just putting you in the play, you have to be able to sing, and well."

"Trust me I'm good, I'm in a band," I won't mention to him how I got so good in the first place.

"Okay," Mr. Schuester says, perking up. I'll wrangle up Rachel, and we'll see what you can do."

"Wait, Rachel's going to hear me audition?"

"Well she sort of volunteered her services as my casting assistant, or more like forced them on me, either way if she's not there I'll never hear the end of it. Can you meet us in the auditorium in thirty?"

"Yeah, I can do that," I say, relieved that he doesn't ask any more questions, I guess he's so happy to have possibly found a Roger that he doesn't want to scare me off by grilling me too hard.

* * *

The lights are harsh on my face, and I can just make out Rachel and Mr. Schue sitting in front of me, as I guessed she looks pretty confused right now, the second she decides to stop hassling me about getting involved with theater, I decide to try out for the musical, it must be a pretty big mind fuck.

"Okay Finn," she says, her voice a bit guarded. "Show us what you can do."

"Um, I guess I can sing a song from the play," I suggest awkwardly. "One of Roger's"

"That's not necessary Finn," Mr. Schue reminds me. "You can sing any song you want, but if you insist on doing a song from the play we have the sheet music here-

"I already know it," I cut in, a bit more confidently "One song Glory from the beginning."

They remain silent as the pianist begins to play the somber tune, and I clear my throat, not sure where the nerves are coming from, it's not like I want to be in the play or anything. But if I'm going to do this I have to do it right, otherwise what's the point in ruining my relationship with Quinn and getting Rachel and Mr. Schue's hopes up?

When the time comes for me to start singing I start slow, and steady... _One Song Glory One Song Before I Go Glory One Song To Leave Behind_

Find One Song One Last Refrain Glory From The Pretty Boy Front Man Who Wasted Opportunity

One Song He Had The World At His Feet Glory In The Eyes Of A Young Girl A Young Girl Find Glory Beyond The Cheap Colored Lights

One Song Before The Sun Sets Glory - On Another Empty Life Time Flies - Time Dies Glory - One Blaze Of Glory One Blaze Of Glory - Glory

Find Glory in a song that rings true truth like a blazing fire an eternal flame

Find One Song A Song About Love Glory From The Soul Of A Young Man A Young Man

Find The One Song Before The Virus Takes Hold Glory Like A Sunset One Song To Redeem This Empty Life

Time Flies Time Dies 

As I finish the last note I gauge their reactions, and I suppose the speechlessness is a good thing, but I can't confirm anything until Mr. Schue finally opens his mouth to speak.

"Wow, Finn," he says. "that was..."

"Amazing," Rachel says, finish his sentence in almost a whisper. "So does that mean I have the part?" I say, no signs of real hopefulness in my voice.

"It means rehearsals start Monday, be here at three sharp," Will says with a beaming grin, and without waiting for more words I exit the stage quickly, hoping to avoid having to talk to either of them until I can fully get my head around what just happened. I, Finn Hudson am going to star in the school musical.

I better get used to the feel of slushy down my pants, it can't be any worse than how I've been feeling lately.

I march down the hall in a huff, hearing the sound of Rachel's crutches behind me, choosing to ignore it.

"Finn!" she calls behind me. I ignore that too.

"Finn, stop!" she presses on and I feel her small hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

"Do we really have to talk about this?" I say as I turn to face her.

"Are you going to tell me what that was in there?" she says sternly.

"That was me auditioning," I say simply. "Your play is safe."

"But why?" she says, narrowing her eyes a little.

"What is that thing they say, the show has to go all over the place or something?"

"It's the show must go on," she corrects me. "But why are _you_ doing this, you don't care about this stuff you've told me several times."

"Well if I fail English I'm off the team, either way I get my ass kicked," I lie again.

She nods in understanding.

"Well I hope you know how important this is to me," she says.

"You've made that clear," I say, my voice cold.

"So if you're thinking of slacking off even a little then don't even bother coming Monday."

"Did I sound like I was slacking off in there?" I shoot back, confidently, and her hard look fades.

"No, you were... You were really great actually," she admits. "You were Roger."

"Thanks," I say, and I have to admit that coming from her, the best singer I've ever heard who wasn't super famous, that means something.

"Of course you could stand to be more controlled, and you were a little sharp on some of the higher notes, but I'll be happy to work with you on that."

"Are we done Berry?" I sigh, probably not coming off as annoyed as I want to. "I have practice, I'm already late."

"Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you, but I'll see you at rehearsal, I'm really looking forward to it."

I peel off then without another word, thinking that she's probably really bossy in the sack, and thinking that's probably awesome, and thinking I really need to do something about these fucked up thoughts.

"Oh and Finn?" She calls after me, and I turn once more. "Thank you."

I simply give her a little half smile, not having to force it, and I continue to practice.

**I promise there will be more Finchel interaction soon, and if I do my job correctly it's going to be extremely angsty and sexually charged and fucked up, and ultimately, with any hope, kind of sweet. I really need to wrap my mind around the idea of writing a really really good sex scene, since I have some ridiculously smutty stuff in mind for this story that I probably won't be as good at putting into words, wish me luck with that. Anywhoo, stay tuned folks!**


	6. I Should Tell You

I know I can't avoid the guys forever, if I could I wouldn't tell a soul about the play, but word tends to spread about shit like this, and once it does I'm dead. When I get to the locker room the only ones there are Puck, Karofsky and Azimio, it's like they were waiting, and I swallow hard and avoid their gaze while I start getting ready for practice. Getting undressed down to my underwear while they remain silent.

"You're looking awful hard there guys," I say, trying not to sound as defensive as I feel.

"Oh I'm sorry, we were just trying to make sure you still have a penis," Dave says, getting a hearty laugh from the other boys.

"So you heard," I say defeatedly.

"Quinn told us, she wanted to see if we could shame you into dropping out," Puck says.

"Well you can't, I'm doing this."

"You don't have to, you don't owe Rachel Berry shit," Dave says. "It was an accident."

"Really, then tell that to the cops I'm sure they'll understand," I shoot back, effectively shutting Dave up.

"Look man I get that you want your conscience clear but there are other ways besides fucking over your rep for good," Puck says.

"I don't get what the big deal is it's not like anyone ever goes to these things," I argue.

"Trust me, if they find out you're in the play the whole school will be there with tar and feathers," Azimio chimes in.

"Santana does this drama shit too I don't see you giving her a hard time," I continue.

"Santana's a chick, I guess that's one more thing you two have in common," Dave says, once again getting a laugh out of the guys.

"Man I thought you came to your senses after fancy pants kicked the bucket, guess we were wrong."

"Dude," Puck says disapprovingly at Azimio's tasteless words. "That's low, even for you."

"Lighten up it's not like it was his real bro-

Azimio doesn't get a chance to finish as I slam him against his locker, the rage behind my eyes saying everything I need to say.

"Chillax Christian Bale, it was a joke," Azimio says as I hold him against his locker, and without another word I let him go, exiting the locker room in a huff.

* * *

I don't know why I'm nervous as I arrive at our first rehearsal. I'm more popular than anyone here, even Santana and Brittany, the only two other non rejects on stage right now, but it's hard not to be nervous with everyone staring at me, I don't know most of their names, to me they're goth Asian girl, chubby black chick with the okay face, wheelchair kid, tall gay kid, Blaine Anderson, also known as short gay kid, and of course Rachel.

"Okay everybody, welcome to day one of rehearsals, it's great to see everyone here and pumped," Mr. Schuester says excitedly. "First things first, I'd like to introduce Finn Hud-

"Please don't" I say, cutting Mr. Schuester off, it's a lot easier to pretend I'm not here when he's not making a huge fucking deal about it.

"Um, okay," Mr. Schue agrees. "Let's do a quick run-through of our cast. Portraying Mark Cohen will be Blaine Anderson, Mimi Marquez will be played by Santana Lopez, Mercedes Jones is Joann Jefferson, Angel Chunard will be played by Brittany Pierce-

"Wait a second," I say, cutting Mr. Schuester off. "Angel's being played by a girl?"

"Well Finn we did have to make certain sacrifices to bring this play to McKinley," Rachel explains, and she doesn't seem any happier about it than I am. "Apparantly some parents were uncomfortable with the idea of the part being played by a boy."

"But that's bullshit," I say, a bit angrily.

"Okay, that's enough Finn," Mr. Schue cuts in and I bite my lip, deciding not to push it any further.

"The part of Benjamin Coffin III will be played by Sebastian Smythe, The Part of Roger Davis will be portrayed by Finn Hudson , the part of Tom Collins will be played by our co-director, Artie Abrams, and until further notice the part of Maureen Johnson will be played by Tina Cohen Chang-

"Wait what?" Rachel says furiously. "That's _my_ part Mr. Schuester."

"I'm sorry Rachel but I thought you knew that your understudy would be taking the role considering your accident," Mr. Schue explains. And just when I thought I couldn't feel any more like shit.

"I'll be healed in plenty of time Mr. Schuester," Rachel protests.

"The play starts in a month Rachel," Mr. Schue says carefully.

"I'm a remarkably quick healer, I just don't think there's any reason to doubt my ability."

"I'm not doubting anything, this is simply a precaution, and I would think instead of throwing a hissy fit you would thank Tina for stepping up," Mr. Schuester explains calmly.

"Tina knows how much I respect her and I think she can agree that she's not ready to take on a part as challenging as Maureen," Rachel argues, and I notice the way Tina glares at her a little.

"Do you ever take a break from being a royal bitch Berry?" Santana says cattily.

"Look I didn't mean to offend anybody but I was chosen for this part for a reason, it's the part I was born to play," Rachel continues.

"You said the same thing about Audrey, and Sandy... and Laurie," Mercedes says, rolling her eyes.

"I was born to play a lot of parts," Rachel explains. "Besides, our Tom Collins is in a wheelchair, that role is even more physically demanding."

"Learn to move on those crutches the way I can in this chair and you might have a point," Artie says confidently.

"Rachel, that's enough," Blaine says, a little softer than the others. "I know you're upset, you have a right to be, but you need to calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" she snaps, and with tears in her eyes she storms off the stage.

"You know, the more times she storms out of here the less impact it has," Artie says softly. And I don't know why, because I can agree that she's being crazy, but I have a feeling that Maureen really is her whole life right now, and because of me she doesn't even have that, so I can't help going after her.

I find her sitting against the lockers, her face buried in her arms and her tiny body shaking with heavy sobs, she must hear me walking up to her, because she sits up, wiping her eyes.

"It's so unfair, this is my last play, my swan song," she says dramatically. "Tina's a junior, she'll have her chance next year."

"Yeah, that's a bummer," I say, trying to sound as sympathetic as I can. "You know, if you want me to drop out of the play, like in protest or something I totally will."

"What?" she says, raising her voice, her hard gaze piercing me. "You can't quit, we need you."

"But I thought..."

"No, the show must go on, I'm just going to have to suck it up, go back in there and apologize to Tina," she continues. "Help me up."

"So you're staying?" I say as I help her to her feet.

"Of course, my leg will heal in time, I know it, and until then someone has to help you give the best performance McKinley's ever seen, next to mine of course." At that I reenter the auditorium with her, thinking she really is crazy.

* * *

She offers to run lines with me after our first rehearsal, or more like insists. I should be practicing this scene with Santana, but she has cheer practice and I know a small part of her is grateful to Rachel for helping me out, even if she'd never admit it. If I crap out as Santana's love interest she'll pretty much murder me. I don't want to be here with Rachel, but this is what I signed up for. I need to be here if I ever hope to get some sort of peace of mind back, so I have to suck it up while she gets her high out of molding me into the perfect Roger, I don't get her, not at all, but I guess getting her isn't really the point.

"Okay in this scene Mimi finally confronts Roger about his standoffish behavior," Rachel explains as I stand there stiffly. "As you know he's spent the whole play up until now denying his feelings because he's so afraid of being sucked back into a life that he left behind a long time ago."

"Yeah, I know the play," I say a bit tensely.

"Yes but do you _know_ the play," she says, narrowing her eyes at me a bit.

"I don't know what that means," I say, rubbing my forehead in frustration.

"This isn't about memorizing the words Finn, it's about feeling them," she explains. "Okay, I think we should sing _I Should Tell You_from the top, it's a really important song, it basically sums up everything Roger and Mimi have been feeling up until this point in the play. What do you say, will you sing with me?"

"Do I have a choice?" I sigh.

"Finn you're going to make a magnificent Roger, you just have to let yourself go, get into it."

"Okay," I groan. She really is bossy, but somehow not the way I thought, it's more like she just cares a lot, maybe too much.

_I should tell you I'm disaster I forget how to begin it..._

She sings the next verse, and as always her voice gives me the kind of chills I'll never admit to

_Let's just make this part go faster, I have yet to be in it..._

As we sing together I realize something, something terrifying. I really really like singing with her, something about her voice and the way she looks at me, it makes it all seem a hell of a lot less lame, and maybe I never really thought it was to begin with, maybe I just wanted to think that, maybe I needed to think that. But when I'm singing with her I can't force myself to feel that way. What the fuck is this chick doing to me?

We finish the final note and I just look at her, at her eyes and her lips, and I remember this part in the play, I'm supposed to kiss her, surrender to her and everything I feel, so I close the distance between us, planting my lips on hers, holding her by her waist, forcing open her mouth with my tongue and deepening the kiss, feeling my heart race a mile a minute, this is fine, it's in the play, it's how the song ends. Yes, this is fine, it's so fine, it's so... freaking... good...

"Okay, that was good," she says nervously and frantically, breaking the kiss. "That was really good. You know I think you may want to tone down the kiss just a little, it might read a bit inappropriate, but otherwise... Yeah, good job Finn. Let's move on to after the diner scene." she turns her back to me then, going up to the piano and starting to write something down on her script.

I really have to stop this, I owe Rachel a debt, that's the only reason I'm here, not because I want to be, not because this is fun, not because I can't stop staring at her while she writes down her notes on the piano. She's kind of hot, and a good kisser, and her hair is soft and she smells nice, nothing else, there's nothing else to the way she makes me feel. I feel guilty, and even moreso because she may not get to play her dream role after all. Yet here I am, staring like a creeper at her, wanting to do more than stare, and I look around, there's no one else here, just me, just her. Fuck it.

"Now in this next scene the gang has effectively turned over a new leaf," she says to me even though she's not facing me, and I take advantage of her not facing me as I walk up to her slowly. "They're happy, they're together, everything is the way it should be, it's the calm before the storm so to sp-

I start slowly, moving her hair off of her shoulder, moving the strap of her dress down and placing a light kiss there, drowning her words in that unexpected action, and she really does smell good, and her skin is so soft under my lips, so I kiss it again, slowly, carefully, easing her in as my hands make their way around her waist, holding her against me as I plant kisses along her shoulder and her neck and the area right beneath her ear.

"Th-they know what's coming y- you know because..." she continues to talk as I continue to kiss her, her words breathy and shaky, and I smile a bit into her skin, pleased at how she's already starting to unravel. "they know what's coming but... They..."

Her voice lowers to a whisper and I continue seducing her against the piano, my lips attacking her skin, my hands creeping up slowly, I can feel her trembling in my arms, I can hear her breathing speed up, and I know what's coming, I hear her drop her script and feel her hand coming up to touch my hair and my lips skim across her cheek as she turns her head to meet my lips with hers, finding my tongue with her tongue, It's happening, I'm kissing her, and not for the play, she's not even my girl in this play, I'm just kissing her because I want to be, and she wants to be kissing me, and I could give a shit what Puckerman or any of the guys would say, it's none of their damn business and it's not like anybody has to know, she'll be my little secret.

"Finn, what are you doing?" she whispers into my mouth as she turns her body towards mine before my hands can reach her breasts. She deepens the kisses we share against the piano, making it play a discordant tune as I plant my hands on either side of her.

"Rehearsing," I respond, taking my hands off of the piano and pulling her against me closer.

"I don't get it," she continues. "Is this another dare?"

"No," I admit, moving my lips to her neck, making her tremble again, I love the way she trembles against me.

"But, y-you hate me."

"I know," I reply, my voice gritty. "You drive me fucking nuts."

And I continue kissing her, my lips attaching themselves to hers again until she breaks it, needing to talk more. No matter, there are other places to kiss besides her lips, so I do, I kiss the column of her throat and her collarbone and her breath catches as I slowly move down to her cleavage.

"Then why are you kissing me?" she says breathlessly.

"Because it's awesome," I reply, and we continue to make out against the piano and her hands tangle in my hair and my hands touch her thighs and my head goes foggy.

"Finn, stop," she finally says, pushing against me, but I'm so lost in her mouth and her thighs and her scent that her words barely register with me, and I keep going. "Finn, no, I can't do this here," she continues, pushing against me.

"We can go somewhere else," I suggest, kissing her again.

"No I mean I can't do this," she says forcefully, pushing me away one final time, I look at her then, as she wipes her mouth and fixes her hair and pulls the strap of her dress back up, effectively erasing what just happened between us.

"Why?" I continue a bit desperately, already missing the feel and the taste of her lips against mine. "What's wrong?"

"I can't do this with you Finn, I'm not this girl."

"Rachel it's only kissing, you don't have to worry about pissing off Jewish god or whatever."

"No I mean I can't do this with _you_" she says.

"But I thought you liked me," I say a bit lamely.

"I do," she says. And I can't tell but I think there are tears in her throat. "That's what's so pathetic. I don't want to be this girl Finn, I don't want to be the self-esteem deficient girl who goes after the guy who treats her the way you treat me, I'm better than that."

I swallow hard at her words, not being able to come up with anything to say, because what can I say? It's not like she's wrong.

"God, Finn do you know how many times I've cried over you?" she continues. "Because you and your friends thought it would be funny to egg my house or sabotage my instrumental CD at assemblies so it plays _Who Let The Dogs Out_ or hurl pee balloons at the glee club? And I can't, I can't let you kiss me after all that."

"Well if I'm such a dick then why do you like me?" it's a comeback, yet somehow I'm still curious, I really am curious.

"Maybe I like the person I thought you were, the person you used to be before you decided to just resign from life and become what everyone expected, maybe that's the Finn Hudson I cry over sometimes."

My jaw tightens and I look down from her, thinking this was a bad idea, this was a horrible fucking idea, and I can't be here. From now on I'm only rehearsing with Santana.

"Okay, I'm out of here," I say, turning away.

"No," Rachel says forcefully, grabbing my arm, stopping me. "I'm not finished."

"Yes you fucking are," I say angrily, yanking my arm away. "I'm not talking about this, not with you."

"Finn answer me this," she says before I can reach the door. "Is hanging out with the likes of Dave Karofsky easier than feeling alone, or is it easier than feeling anything?"

"Shut up," I say in almost a whisper.

"I really want to know Finn, is it just easier than admitting to yourself that your whole world crumbled when you lost your brother?"

"Shut the fuck up," I continue, a little louder, my voice breaking, she can't do this, she can't fucking do this, how dare she talk about me, about Kurt like she knows anything, she doesn't, she doesn't know shit.

"It wasn't that long ago Finn, the rest of this school may have the attention span of a goldfish hopped up on pixy stix but I know better, you loved him Finn, you loved him so much that a part of you died with him that day, the part of you who's name I used to write down on all of my notebooks. The part I thought might be coming back when you agreed to do this play, but maybe I was wrong-

"Fuck you okay!" I fume, turning to face her, yelling right in her face. "What the fuck is your problem anyway? Why the fuck do you care?"

"To be honest I don't know," she says coldly.

"I do, because you're a crazy ass fucking stalker that's why, you think I'll be into you if you can fix me or something, who the fuck would be into you?"

"Says the guy who just kissed me," she says a little more confidently, and I wish I knew how to respond to that, god damn her. "You know what I think?"

"I don't give a shit what you think Berry," I say, my voice slowly losing it's edge.

"I think you have feelings for me and you're just too much of a coward to admit it," she continues, ignoring my words "You're so afraid of becoming the person you used to be, the person who loves Kurt that you shut everything out that reminds you of him, so you won't have to hurt over what happened, but it's not taking, you're so full of hurt that it's all I see when I look at you anymore."

"I have to go," I say. Starting around again, it's all I can manage to say, I can't tell her to fuck off, I can't yell, I can't do anything but get the fuck away from her as fast as I can, she's wrong, she's so fucking wrong. And to hell with my guilt, there's no way I'm doing this play.

**Don't worry, Rachel's life isn't going to be a shitfest this whole story, just like Finn isn't going to be a douche bag this whole story, have a little faith and stay tuned folks!**


	7. The Tragedy Of Kurt Hummel

**I was going to post the final chapter of Eye Of The Beholder today, but I'm just feeling a bit more inspired by this story at the moment, so that will go up tomorrow**

I can't do this, I can't do any of this. What the fuck was I thinking getting involved with this? With her? I know what she's doing, what she's always done. She thinks me being miserable will help me in the long run but it won't. Why is it so hard for her and Mr. Schue and the school shrink to understand that there are some things that I don't want to think about? Especially not him. I never want to think about him again.

I'm relieved to finally get home, it feels like I've been away for years, all I want to do is pass out in my room and forget this ever happened. Maybe when I wake up I can call Quinn, tell her I'm quitting, that this whole thing was a bad idea. Being with Quinn always feels easy, not like when I'm with Rachel, Rachel just makes everything so damn hard and I hate it. I hate her, I fucking hate her and I don't want to think about her anymore either.

My mother is in her usual spot, I wonder if she's moved at all since I left for school, and I notice the liquor bottle on the in-table and I think she must have. She usually tries to hide it from me, but every so often she passes out before she can stash the evidence. I place my backpack down softly, hoping not to wake her and I quietly walk up to her and take the half empty glass from her hand, placing it back on the table. I start toward the hall cabinet to get her a blanket when something catches my eye, something I haven't seen since...

I remember when he gave her this, he was twelve, it was mother's day, the first mother's day gift he ever gave her. A photo album he made himself. It's not some rush job made from macaroni and craft glitter, you could tell how much work he put into it, the genuine leather binding, the little designs and etchings on the paper, the loopy script on the title, "Hudson-Hummel family memories" always the class act. when he first gave it to her there were only a few pictures in there that weren't from the wedding or their lives before they met, but we added to it over time, as we became less like strangers and more like family. And my memory is sparked when I look at the page it's turned to. It's me and him, at Disney world, both laughing uncontrollably after I've succeeded in my attempt to force him into the Mickey mouse ears Burt got him.

_"Cut it out Finn, you'll ruin my hair!" he laughed._

"That was the plan," I roared back, chasing him down, ignoring mom and Burt's protests.

The image blurs, and I can hear the saltwater splash on the page. I slam the book shut, wipe my eyes and pull myself together. Why would she take this out? Why does she insist on torturing herself every day like this? Letting her pain eat away at her until there's nothing left? I can't end up like that, I can't. I go to the cabinet and grab the blanket, and I drape it over her.

"Burt," she mumbles, grabbing my wrist as I start toward my room.

"No," I say, my voice breaking. "Burt's gone mom."

"Burt can you run to the store? We need milk."

Her eyes aren't open, I think she must be half dreaming.

"Sure," I choke out, not sure why. "I'll go right now."

I bend down and lightly kiss her forehead, and instead of going to my room I head out the front door.

* * *

He was different, I knew right away, the way he dressed and carried himself and talked like an adult, he was the strangest kid I'd ever met. I wasn't used to that, none of us were, certainly not my friends, so if we pushed him around it was only because we didn't really get him, and kids tend to reject what they don't get, but so little of the crap we pulled seemed to faze him even a little. I'd never admit it but I respected that.

I never actually hated Kurt Hummel, not really, at least not until I found out my mom was dating his dad. I'd known Kurt since the first grade, but I never really _knew_ him, I still count the first day we really met as the time mom invited Kurt and Burt over for dinner, they'd been dating for about three months and it was starting to get serious, serious enough for her to introduce me, and of course I was having none of it. I was very set in my ways for being all of eleven, and I wasn't about to have some weird kid and his dad invading my life. Burt Hummel wasn't my dad, Christopher Hudson was, and Kurt Hummel wasn't my brother, I had no brother. I liked it that way.

_"What are you doing in my room?" I said hostilely. He'd disappeared after dessert, and 'b! my mom told me to look for him, and there he was, rifling through my stuff already like he owned the place._

"Relax Finn," Kurt said as he gently placed my action figures and games into my toy box. "I'm very clean I promise, the same can't be said for you, you have a toy box, have you ever thought about using it?"

"Get out of my room," I demand, raising my voice.

"Finn if we're going to be brothers you're going to have to learn to be a little more welcoming." he said, continuing his task, and I wanted to get angry, tackle him and punch his face but instead I was just confused, and I wouldn't admit it, but I was a bit curious.

"You're not my brother," I said, a little more half-heartedly than I wanted to. "You'll never be my brother."

"I don't know about that," he protested "My dad seems pretty into your mom."

"I don't care, you're not my brother!" I repeat angrily, raising my voice a little more.

"Okay," he said, unaffected. "You want to play Battleship? I've always preferred Clue but you don't have it."

"Did you hear what I said?" I pressed on as he remained annoyingly confident. "I don't want you here."

"Oh I heard, and I'm choosing to ignore your hostility," Kurt said, starting to set up the game. "Do you want to be the blue side or the red side?" I just paused for a minute, my hands in my pockets, shifting my feet, looking down at the floor.

"You're weird," I mumbled, it's all I could think to say.

"Is that a yes?"

I didn't say another word as I kneeled down across from him slowly and shyly, taking the blue side, I was always the blue side. He didn't mind, red was his color.

They got married six months later. And I had a brother, but I'm thinking I had one before that.

Invading my room without asking became a habit with him, and quickly, but the longer it went on the less I protested. It's not like he gave me much of a choice.

_"Have you ever watched the sound of music?" Kurt said, entering my room with a DVD and two mugs of hot tang, usually it was warm milk but my cold didn't exactly agree with dairy._

"You shouldn't be in here," I said in my scratchy voice, not angrily. "You'll get sick."

"I've told you a thousand times, I don't get sick, I practically bathe in purell," he explained, and it was true, in the nearly three years our parents had been married I'd never seen him with so much as a sore throat. "So, Sound of Music, have you seen it?"

"No," I admitted. "Is it good?"

"Good? Oh Finn you have no idea, do you mind if I change this?" I nodded and he placed the DVD in my player before plopping down beside me.

"There's singing in this isn't there?" I groaned

"It's called The Sound of Music," he said, rolling his eyes. "And you'd think you'd be more into musicals considering your talent."

"I like musicals but they're all you ever watch, when I wanted to watch Braveheart you cried."

"I did not," he replied unconvincingly. And I just smirked and shook my head at him.

We watched in silence, and I smiled a little inside at the music and her voice and everything, it really was good.

"Hey Kurt," I said, quietly after awhile, knitting my brow in thought. "What did you mean when you said I have talent?"

"Are you kidding? You always rock our family Karaoke nights," Kurt explained, I can't wait until we're sophomores and we can be in actual musicals."

I sank down a little, a look of doubt reaching my face, clearly he noticed, because he paused the movie and turned to face me, "What's wrong?"

"Being in a musical kind of sounds like fun," I admitted, "I mean, I can't dance or anything but when I'm singing, it's just... It's fun I guess."

"Yeah, that's the point, so why does the thought of it make you look like you want to kill yourself?"

"Well guys who do that kind of stuff, they get made fun of, I don't want to get made fun of."

"I get made fun of all the time when you're not there to needlessly defend my honor," He said with a shrug.

"Yeah but you don't care what people think about you," I reminded him "I don't know how not to."

"It's easy," Kurt said, "Just picture the day you're a big success and they're bagging your groceries."

"That's easy for you, you get the best grades and you're good at all kinds of different stuff, you're going to New York after high school to be a Broadway singer or a fashion designer or something cool like that, and I'm still going to be here."

"Don't insult me Finnjamin," he said, rolling his eyes. "You really think I'd leave you in this hellhole? You're coming too. I'll need you around if I have to move something heavy."

"Really?" I said with a small smile.

"Of course, you're a star too, whether you know it or not, and this town is way too small for either one of us. Now shut up and listen to Julie Andrews."

I pound on her door like my life depends on it, I don't know what I'm going to say to her, or even how I ended up here, I just know that I need to see her, to give her a piece of my mind because how dare she fuck with my head like that and expect to get away with it? When she yanks the door open I can tell she's annoyed about the rude knocking, but she sees who it is, and the pissed off look on my face, and her expression changes.

"Finn," Rachel says in almost a whisper.

"Your dads home?" I ask.

"No, they had a dinner," she explains.

"Good," I say, entering her house without asking.

"Finn, is everything okay?" she says confusedly.

"No," I reply, tears in my throat, and god dammit why won't they stop? "Why did you have to say that, huh? Why? I was... I was fine."

"You may be a lot of things Finn but you're not fine, and you weren't before," she says.

"How would you know, because I'm a jerk to you? So is everybody."

"But you're not everybody, that's the point," she continues.

"So what, you want me to be like you? Like those rejects in glee like... Like...

"Like Kurt?" she finishes for me. "Would that be so bad?"

"Yes, okay!" I fume. "It would be, you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because Kurt was a fucking idiot who didn't give enough of a shit about me to just stay the fuck home like I asked him to that's why," I fume, it's the first time I've ever talked about this, since I took the stand and sent those guys to jail to rot for the rest of their lives and still felt nothing because their suffering wouldn't cancel out his, it wouldn't bring him back, nothing would. "He had to go, he had to take a fucking stand and for what? Because they fired some youth pastor he didn't even know for being gay, and I know it was wrong okay, I told him that, and I told him that he was brave and I was proud of him for wanting to do something, but I told him to let them handle it. He was fifteen fucking years old, it wasn't up to him to fix the world, he would have his chance, it's what he always said... We were supposed to go to New York after high school and everything was going to be better...

"Finn," she says softly, walking up to me, but I ignore her, continuing my rant.

"I told him to stay, I begged him, I even threatened to tell his dad and I should have, I should have done more to protect him, but I couldn't because he snuck out and I knew where he was going, I knew. So I went to the protest, I went after him to bring him home and... He was a kid Rachel, he was a baby and those skinheads fucking killed him and I was too fucking late, I got there and they were kicking his face in like a soccer ball and there was so much blood-

"Finn, please..."

"And I couldn't fight them," I press on, and it feels like I'm outside of my own body, like she's not even here and I can't stop. "There were just too many, and they made me watch Rachel, they made me watch them kill my brother, is that what you wanted to hear? Huh? That it haunts me every single day? That I can't shake it? That I miss Kurt so much sometimes that I want to die and it's easier to pretend like he never existed in the first place? Just like everyone else does? Do you want to hear that it's all my fucking fault? Does that make you happy-

She doesn't let me finish, she clomps up to me on her crutches and drops them, throwing her thin arms around me.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispers softly to me.

"Stop it," I whisper, trying to break free, but she's freakishly strong, or I'm just weak right now, maybe it's a little of both, either way I can't fight her anymore, I can't fight me anymore. So I just let her hold me for awhile.

"Finn," she says, breaking away from me and looking deep into my eyes, like she's searching me, and she wipes my tears away with her thumbs. And before I know it she's pressed her lips to mine, her soft sweet lips that I can't stop thinking about, I don't think she means to kiss me in a romantic way, she just wants to make me feel better, and in spite of how absolutely shitty I feel right now, it works.

"You're just like him," I say softly as she breaks the kiss. "Stubborn, pushy... I don't know why you weren't friends."

"He was competition," she explains. "But he was always nice to me, when he wasn't being catty about my wardrobe choices."

In spite of myself I chuckle through my tears at that.

"I'm sorry Finn, I didn't mean to make you sad, I just..."

"It wasn't you," I assure her, shaking my head. "I'm always sad."

"I know," she says softly.

"I still don't understand how," I reply, and she doesn't respond. "I have to go," I continue after a few silent moments, turning away from her, my head still a mess.

"Where are you going?" she says a bit desperately.

"I have to get milk, for my mom," I explain. "But I'll see you at rehearsal."

I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore.

**Stay tuned folks!**


	8. Something Personal

**I don't want to get my hopes up, but I think I might hit 300 reviews for the first time before the end of this story. If you can help make that happen I'll love you all more than I already do. I know it's not all about the reviews, but damn it I just really love getting them.**

I barely got a wink of sleep last night, it's like I couldn't make my brain shut up. I don't know what's happening to me, what possessed me to tell Rachel all of those things, why my life has turned so completely upside down. Then I remember suddenly, it was that night, that horrible fucking night. I was okay, I was fine before that night, whether Rachel agrees or not. I had my life figured out, I knew who I was supposed to be, now I have no idea. I don't understand how different things have gotten in so little time. Last week I was dating Quinn, I still talked to my friends, I was... Well I wasn't happy or anything, but who really is? The point is I wasn't slowly going crazy, I wasn't losing sleep, I wasn't starring in a musical, I wasn't kissing Rachel, thinking about it sure, but not actually doing it, and I sure as hell wasn't pouring my heart out to her like I couldn't control the words and hot tears erupting out of me. I was fine, and now I'm a mess and I have no idea what to do.

I told Rachel I would be at rehearsal, I don't know why I said it, I still have every intention of quitting, and I told Quinn as much over the phone when I got home last night, I asked her to come over but she refused, probably still punishing me, but she agreed to get back together and I breathed a sigh of relief. I wanted to make it up to Rachel but not at the risk of my own sanity, I don't trust myself when I'm with her, I don't trust my emotions and that scares the hell out of me. I need to be with Quinn, I need to be with someone who I can make sense of, and make sense of how I feel when I'm with her. I can't make sense of Rachel, and I feel a million different feelings when I'm with her and the only ones I can really place are irritation and lust, the rest are completely foreign to me, and attack my heart at once like an unstoppable force of nature that I can't protect it from. And when she kissed me last night, that soft sweet kiss, filled with tenderness and compassion for the last person on earth she should feel either of those things for, my heart ached in my chest the way it hasn't in years and I couldn't stand it and I wanted more at the same time, and I just can't deal with being this damn confused.

My mom is at the kitchen counter sipping coffee, she's always up early because she always falls asleep drunk at around seven, yet she always seems to know when I come in past curfew somehow.

"Hey mister," she says. "Did you buy milk last night?"

"No, why?" I lie, not really sure what for.

"I thought we were out but there was a full gallon in there this morning."

"Maybe we weren't out," I say, shrugging as I grab a box of pop tarts from the cupboard.

"Hmm, anyway, at least I don't have to go to the store today," she says, sipping her coffee. I really can't remember the last time she looked happy, I know it was after Kurt died, she was sad when it happened, devastated even, he became just as much her son as I was after awhile. But him dying isn't what broke her, not entirely anyway, it was everything that happened after, the fact that we couldn't stay a family anymore and she was the last one to know it.

"Mom," I say hesitantly, sitting next to her, placing my hand over hers, "Have you ever thought about maybe..."

"What?" she says, looking up at me with wide eyes.

_Calling Burt? Going to AA? Leaving the house?_

"Never mind," I say, shaking my head. I don't know why it's so hard to talk to her now, it never used to be this hard, but then again nothing ever used to be this hard. I'm weirdly relieved as my pop tarts shoot out of the toaster, I get up, I kiss my mom on the cheek and grab my breakfast, leaving the house without another word. I guess things are just going to have to be awkward everywhere I go.

I need to try to avoid Rachel at all costs, I'll skip chem and English, and I just won't go near my locker today, I have a backpack after all. I don't know how I'm going to tell her that I'm quitting, maybe I can just not go to rehearsals and she'll figure it out. I feel pangs of guilt at the thought of the play having to be cancelled yet again, I don't give a shit about the rest of those guys but the thought of letting Rachel down like this makes me feel even worse, something I didn't think was possible, and I'd never admit it, but the thought of being in that play was starting to suck a little less with every note I sang with Rachel, but none of that matters now. I have to quit. She wasn't going to get to play Maureen anyway, I'll just to have to think of something else that will make the goddamn guilt go away.

I go to Quinn's locker to meet her, like we talked about, she's probably going to want to talk about how we can get this whole homecoming court thing back on track, I'll tolerate it if it means everything can go back to the way it was, when my life made sense. But when I hear _her_ voice behind me, and feel her shyly and softly touching my shoulder, I know that getting back to normal is going to be a lot more complicated than that, I really need to stop underestimating Rachel's ability to find me anywhere.

"Finn, can we talk?" she says gently, and I turn to face her, my expression pained. I nod once, not speaking.

"About what happened last night..."

"I can't," I say sharply, I don't want to cry again, not here. But I feel like all of my nerve endings are exposed in her presence.

"I just wanted to say that I think it was very brave of you," she says hesitantly, clearly worried about what I would say or do as she continued. "Opening up to me like that, I know how hard that must have been."

I nod again.

"Finn, listen," she continues. "I don't know if you and I will ever be friends, but I hope you realize that I do think there's something more to you than what you want people to see, something good, and I just hope that I can see more of it as we continue to work together."

The pang again, it hurts, but I have to do this. "About the play... Rachel I..."

"You're thinking of quitting aren't you?" she says, not angrily, and my jaw tightens, the look on my face clearly saying it all.

I expect her to cry, or yell at me or storm off, but she doesn't do any of those things, she just smiles a warm, sympathetic smile.

"I get it," she says. "After what happened, you're scared. But you won't do it, you won't quit."

I knit my brow in confusion, because I certainly wasn't expecting that.

"Wait, what?" I say, baffled.

"You're not going to quit Finn," she repeats confidently.

"You seem awful sure," I say tensely.

"Face it Finn, you're in too deep," she says dramatically, like a mob boss or something. It's cute, actually. "If you quit now after saving the day and getting everyone's hopes up you're not going to be able to live with yourself."

"What makes you think I won't be able to live with myself?" I say coolly, confidently, even though my heart is pounding like a jackhammer.

"First of all they won't let you," Rachel says. "They may not look very tough but there's enough of them to do an awful lot of damage, plus Blaine's a junior champion boxer and Santana has anger issues."

"I think I can handle it," I say, smirking a bit at what I hope was a joke.

"Finn, look," she continues "If you don't want to practice with me anymore after what happened last night then you don't have to, but please don't punish the club because you're scared. they need you Finn... _I_ need you."

Her eyes are like saucers as she pleads with me...

Fuck.

"You really care about them don't you?" I say softly.

"I do," she admits.

Fucking fuck. Why does she have to look at me like that? I had my mind made up, I was going to wash my hands of this whole thing and get on with my life, but what the hell am I supposed to do now?

"Can I help you troll?" at the sound of Quinn's icy voice, she turns swiftly.

"I'll see you at rehearsal okay," Rachel says before I can say anything else, and she turns and clomps away.

Quinn waits for Rachel to disappear down the hall and she kisses me, long and deep, and I so wish that I felt more in her kiss, the excitement I used to feel, the fireworks, they stopped at around the time she broke up with Sam Evans from the football team and started dating me exclusively, I'm thinking it was the wrongness of it all, of kissing a taken girl that excited me, because nothing about Quinn herself excites me, she's confident and smart and no nonsense and devastatingly gorgeous, and once her bitchy cheerleader schtick falls by the wayside once she graduates she'll probably be a total catch, but she doesn't excite me, she doesn't make me feel everything at once, she doesn't make my heart pound, she doesn't drive me absolutely fucking batshit crazy.

Shit.

She doesn't make me feel the way Rachel does.

"So," Quinn says, breaking the kiss. I was thinking for homecoming-

"I'm not quitting," I say, cutting her off.

"What?" Quinn says, as if she honestly didn't hear me.

"I can't quit the play," I repeat. "I know I said I would, and I'm sorry but I can't."

"Are you kidding me Finn?" she says, raising her voice. "You can't be serious."

"I don't want to get back together," I continue, laying it all out there at once like ripping off a bandaid, I don't know where all of this is coming from, but as I say it I know it's true, Rachel is right, I am in too deep. "I think you were right, to break up with me."

"Okay what the hell did that bitch say to you?" Quinn says.

"She's not a bitch," I say as if I'm just now realizing it myself. "She's just... She wants everything so much, she's passionate, she's..."

_Weird and crazy and talented and fucking sexy._

"No, don't say it, don't say that you like that thing," Quinn says.

"I don't like her," I say, and the words lose more and more meaning the more I utter them. "But I said I would do this for her and I can't back out now, I just freaked out for a second."

"Finn, what did she say to you?" Quinn repeats.

"She said that they need me," I explain. "And they do, they need me Quinn."

"I need you, why can't you see that?"

"I don't know, maybe because you broke up with me over a stupid crown," I say, and I don't know why I'm raising my voice, I'm not mad at Quinn, not really, I just don't want to deal with her right now, not on top of everything else.

"Finn, I broke up with you because you're like a completely different person," she fumes. "We were supposed to have the dream senior year together and now all of a sudden you're throwing your whole reputation away for Rachel Berry of all people."

"I don't expect you to understand," I reply. "I just... I have to go."

I leave her without another word, ignoring her yelling after me, and I find Rachel by her locker, where I'm sure she was waiting.

"You want to get back together with Quinn," she says as a statement rather than a question. "That's why you're quitting."

"I'm not quitting," I say, my heart clenching a bit. "I'll see you at rehearsal, I mean it this time."

I walk away then, but I look back just once to see the small smile on her face.

_

* * *

...cold hands Yours too Big, like my father's_

Wanna dance With you? No, with my father

I'm Roger They call me, they call me Mimi!

Singing with Santana is pretty great too, it's doesn't make my heart beat faster the way singing with Rachel does, but I like her voice and I like the way our voices sound together, and I like the way Rachel looks on in pride, mouthing every word along with me. She's going to take credit for me getting it right, I know it, and maybe that wouldn't be completely off base, she did kind of threaten me a lot while we practiced this song.

"Dayumn Finny D, where you been hiding that voice?" Santana says, fanning herself with her script as we finish, making me blush a little.

"Good right?" Rachel cuts in. "We practiced for hours, but I was happy to volunteer my time helping him hone his already splendid musical talents."

"Excuse me but am I the only one wondering what she's doing here?" Mercedes says.

"Mercedes, that's enough," Mr. Schue says half-heartedly. "But she is right Rachel, you aren't required to be here."

I look at Rachel, the way she sort of deflates, because isn't it obvious why she's here? She cares more about this thing than any one of them.

"If you don't want me here then-

"I want you here," I cut in, interrupting Rachel, and her eyes go wide at the declaration. "Take a seat, you need to keep your weight off that leg if you expect it to heal in time for opening night."

She smiles and obeys, clomping off the stage and taking a seat in the audience, nobody protests, because of course they wouldn't, that's power you can't buy.

"Okay," Rachel says as she settles in. "You may continue, just pretend I'm not here."

"That's pretty much impossible," Artie says under his breath and I shoot him a look, making him sink in his chair a little.

"Okay, places!" Mr. Schue continues.

* * *

I stay behind after rehearsal, knowing that she's going to stay behind too. If I'm going to be in this play, if I'm going to be around her all of the time now, then there are some things I'm going to have to get out there. I'm not going to make it much longer like this.

"Rachel," I say softly, and she turns quickly, probably afraid I'm going to kiss her again. She probably should be.

"Oh, hi Finn," she says warmly. "I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me back there."

"It's not a big deal, really," I assure her.

"So, did you want to run lines again?" she beams, always getting so excited.

"Pretty soon you're going to know Santana's part better than Santana does," I reply.

"I'm sure I already do, I have no life remember?" she says, rolling her eyes a little.

"Have you ever tried doing something about that?" I say carefully. "I mean nobody's even signed your cast, that's gotta hurt a little."

"I've tried to associate with them in a friendly capacity more times than I can count, I've offered all of them free singing lessons, dancing lessons, acting lessons, I've done everything right."

"Have you ever tried asking one of them out for coffee or something?"

"To run lines?" she says confusedly.

"No," I explain. "To have coffee."

"Well, no, I guess not."

"That's your problem Berry," I say, rubbing my forehead in frustration. "You think the only thing you have to offer is your talent so you kind of force it on everybody."

"Finn, I don't understand, are you actually trying to psychoanalyze me right now?" she says a bit hostilely.

"So we can talk about my shit but we can't talk about yours?" I shoot back, and she looks down nervously.

"Well, what if I don't?" she says quietly, after awhile.

"What if you don't what?"

"Have anything else to offer?" she explains. "I mean I'm not beautiful like Santana, I'm not likable like Blaine, I can sing, that's who I am."

"No, that's what you do, and you do it really well, I can't deny that, but..."

"But what?"

"You know how you said you saw something more to me last night?" I continue. "Well I saw something more to you too, and I think I've always seen it, I just didn't want to see it because, well..."

"Well what?" she says, urging me on. And I take a deep breath, ready to say what I need to say.

"Rachel, if I tell you something really personal do you promise you won't freak out?"

"I'm a little scared to promise that," she says hesitantly. "But if you really need to say it then yes, I promise I won't freak out."

"Well, okay the thing is... I, I um..."

"Oh my god are you actually nervous right now?" she teases.

"Shut up I'm not nervous," I say defensively.

"Okay, tell me, I won't freak out."

I swallow hard and prepare myself to say what I need to say next, and I notice what she's wearing, it's this little blue skirt with flowers on it and a gray shirt that cuts low enough in the front for me to see the small curve of her breasts over the top of it, and my dick twitches a little as she breaths, making her chest rise and fall.

"Finn?" she says, stepping a bit closer, and I can smell her perfume and I can almost reach out and touch her hair, all thick and shiny and curling perfectly around her thin shoulders.

"I think you're sexy," I say in barely a whisper.

"A-oh," she says, clearly a bit confused. "Um well, Finn I don't see why that would freak me out, that's actually incredibly flattering, if a bit baffling."

"No, it's more than that," I say, my voice a little stronger. "Rachel, for a really long time now, not a day has gone by when I didn't think, well more like fantasize, about you. About having sex with you." I know I sound like such a creeper right now, and the look on her face isn't doing anything to make me feel differently about that. "And it's not always the pervy kind of sex you're probably thinking it is, although sometimes it is, I can't deny that, but mostly it's the, well, _making love_ kind of sex."

I don't think I've breathed even once during my declaration, and I can't stand the way she just stares at me.

"Wow, that is personal," she finally says.

"I know, I know I'm sorry but I just had to say it."

"Finn, is this some kind of joke? I mean are Puck and Karofsky listening outside the door right now? Is this your way of renewing the status quo after what happened last night?"

"I haven't even spoken to Puck and Karofsky in days," I say truthfully.

"I just don't understand I mean-" and I drive my point home then, kissing her again, quieting her, and once again it's the most amazing thing in the world, and once again I know she's going to push me away, she does.

"Would you please stop that?" she says, her voice shaky.

"I'm sorry, it's just, your mouth is really nice," I say with a bit of a smirk, and I think the more I can catch her off guard the more confident I feel in her presence, because otherwise I'm a total wreck.

"Finn, I just don't understand," she continues. "If you've liked me all this time-

"This isn't about me liking you," I explain. And I move in closer, running my hand up her arm, feeling her shiver as her wide eyes flutter closed, and I place the other hand at her hip and pull her closer, pulling her body against mine. "I want you."

"You want me?" she breathes, her eyes still closed as I lean in again, not kissing her this time, but close enough to do so easily.

"Like crazy," I say, and my hand slides up to touch her hair and my lips touch her neck. "Sometimes it's so bad I feel like I'm going to die if I go another minute without touching you," I whisper against her throat "And the the only reason I held on this long was because I didn't know what it felt like to kiss you, but now that I have I can't stop."

"But you have to," she says, her voice faraway. "You're no good for me."

"And I would be happy to back off if I thought for a second you didn't want me too," I say tilting her head back gently, kissing her softly, and before I know it I can hear her crutches land on the floor, and before she can fall with them I sweep her up into my arms, still kissing her, and without having to look I walk her backstage and lay her down on the set bed where she sang hopelessly devoted to you, and we kiss, and she doesn't stop me. We kiss passionately on the bed and she pulls my hair a little and opens her legs around me to let me get closer, and she can probably feel me growing hard against her.

I detach myself from her mouth after awhile and move down, kissing her firm breasts and untucking her shirt from her little skirt, pulling it up to reveal her creamy skin, and I kiss down her firm stomach and grip her by the thighs, holding her still. I'm still between her legs and I can feel her wetness on my shirt as I plant kisses over the hot skin beneath her belly button. I want to go lower, I want to pull her panties off and put my mouth against her pussy, taste her, lick her, suck on her hard clit until she screams for mercy, but I know she's not going to let me, not yet anyway. I move back up, kissing her mouth again, caressing her tongue with mine as my hands move up from her thighs and to her breasts, I touch her over the shirt, taking my time with her, but I want more, I want all of her. "Finn wait, can you just wait a second?" she says, pushing me away again, but to be fair it's the longest we've ever made out without her pushing me off of her.

"What's wrong?" I say, noticing the tears beading in her eyes.

"You're going to hurt me," she says tearfully scooting away from me and hugging her knees. "It's what you do, you hurt me Finn. You're always hurting me."

I swallow hard, then I reach out to wipe a stray tear away from her face, she's so tough and confident all the time, but she's so damn fragile too, and I hate myself for not realizing that sooner.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I know I'm an asshole, I know that."

"Yes," she agrees. "You are, and I care about you anyway because I'm such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot, I am," I say without hesitating. "But I don't want to hurt you anymore."

"No, you just want to have sex with me."

"Well, yeah," I admit. "But it's not just that, I want to spend time with you too, I want to see more of the Rachel I saw last night, that I'm seeing right now, the one that comforted an asshole like me without needing anything back in return. I want to... _know_ you." It's true, I can't deny it, and I hope she believes me. "And I don't ever want to hurt you again," I continue, cupping her face in my hand.

She sniffles a little and wipes her eyes. "I don't know what changed Finn, but I like it," she says, still choked up. "You really want to know me?"

I nod, and smile warmly at her. And she scoots back up to me and I become instantly confused as she starts buttoning my shirt, covering the wet spot on my undershirt, blushing a little at the sight of it.

"What are you doing?" I say, chuckling a little.

"Get my crutches," she says, nodding toward them.

"Where are we going?" I say confusedly, getting up to hand her her crutches.

"The Lima Bean, you and I are going to have some coffee."

_I know you guys are still patiently awaiting the smut, but I'm trying to build a rapport here, and I hope you liked the semi fluffy end of this chapter after the angst-fest that was the last one, stay tuned folks!_


	9. Brave

**Thank you for all of the kind reviews, you guys officially rock!**

This is weird isn't it? Being with her, in this coffee house where I've sat with Quinn so many times, sitting across from Rachel Berry as she sips her soy cappuccino, foam on her lip that I want to kiss off. It's weird, but I think what's most weird about it is how weird it _doesn't_ feel. If I took away everything else, our messy past together, the way I hurt her heart with my words and her body with my carelessness, the dark secrets shared in a desperate scream, the forgiving hugs and kisses that shattered me so easily, if I took all of those things away, this would seem like any other date. I could talk to her about everything and nothing, and comment on the indie songs playing faintly in the background and nervously compliment the shade of her lipstick, hoping she doesn't take it the wrong way, and after awhile I'd build up the courage to reach over the table and lace my fingers through hers, and she would blush and comb her hair behind her ear and tell me she was having a really lovely time, that's the kind of word she would use, lovely.

"So, what do we do?" she says, a kind of nervous excitement in her voice, because she's seventeen and she's never been on a real date before.

"We talk," I say simply.

"What do we talk about?" she continues, she wants this to be right, she wants everything to be perfect, she can't screw this up.

"Anything," I reply, "Talk about you, ask me about me."

"Okay," she says, clearing her throat and sitting up a little straighter. "What's your favorite movie?"

"Braveheart," I respond without much hesitation.

"Why?" she continues.

I've never known anyone to expand on that question before, but she isn't just anyone, she's Rachel, and she's completely socially retarded but she tries so hard that I can't help but smile a little in spite of myself.

"Because it's awesome," I say, my smile reaching my voice.

"That's not an answer," she says. "Why is it awesome? What makes it more awesome than any other one of the infinite movie choices out there?"

"Um okay," I say, chuckling a bit. "Well, at first glance it's just all about war and blood and being a badass and stuff, which is great, but when you watch it, like really watch it you realize that it's about so much more. It's about family, and friendship and just never ever giving up no matter what the odds are. And I guess I've just always wished I were more like that guy, you know, and not just because of the cool hair and war paint, but because he fought for what was important... He died for it, I just wish I had it in me to be that brave.

_Kurt was that brave._

"That sounds like a great story," she says, and I knit my brow in disbelief.

"Wait, you've never seen it?" I say, and she shakes her head in response. "You have to watch it, I mean it's a guy movie and everything but you'll love it, I know you will."

"I'm sure I will," she says.

"So, what's your favorite movie?" I ask her then.

"Funny Girl," she responds. "Have you seen it?" and I shake my head.

"It's wonderful," she goes on. And she tells me all about her love for Funny Girl, because of course she does, and I listen, I don't catch every word because she talks too fast for me to keep up, but I can tell I would probably like the movie well enough.

"You know what, we should have a movie night you and me," she says excitedly. "We can watch Funny girl and Braveheart and I'll bring all sorts of snacks, I can even bake, what kind of cookies do you like?"

"Um, chocolate chip I guess," I say, a little hesitantly, because I think she just planned our second date.

"I make fantastic chocolate chip cookies," she says.

"That sounds cool," I say.

"You would really want to?" she adds.

And I think about it, think about watching Funny Girl with her while she talks about her favorite scenes so excitedly, and grills me hard about what my favorite parts were when it's done and then we watch Braveheart, and she gasps during the really heavy scenes, and she cries at the end, cries into my shirt, because she seems like the type who would cry at the end, and maybe we should watch Braveheart first, because Funny girl seems like a much happier movie.

"I really want to," I reply genuinely.

"Good," she says. "Okay, this is good. Okay, what's your favorite band?"

This goes on for awhile, us talking about our favorite everything, revealing things about ourselves as we talk about everything and nothing. She tells me about her love for Barbra, which I expected, and her deep affection for Journey, which I wasn't expecting at all, because I love Journey too, and I tell her as much. And she tells me that her dream role on Broadway is Elphaba from wicked, and I've seen that play and she really would be great, I tell her that and she blushes. She also tells me secretly she'd love to be in something dirty like Avenue Q, only she'd have to learn how to handle a puppet, or The Book of Mormon, only there really isn't a role for her in that specific play, basically she's always wanted to swear for a part.

"You don't know how to swear," I tease.

"I can too, I've practiced," she insists.

"Anyone who has to practice swearing doesn't know how to swear," I continue.

"Fuck... Shit... Cock," she starts, not even lowering her voice, perfectly confident, and it takes me completely by surprise, and to tell the truth it's a bit of a turn on, but...

"That's good but, I mean you can't just spit out swear words and convince me that you know how to swear, where's the context?"

"Fuck you Finn Hudson, I can swear in context you sonofabitch," she says without missing a beat.

"Okay," I reply, laughter in my voice "You can swear."

She flips her hair and sits up proudly. "If you're going to do something do it right," she says. And my smile goes wider.

"This is good, right?" she continues after a pause.

"Yeah, not bad for your first date," I say, sipping my coffee.

"So, this is a date," she says, hope behind her eyes. "And you're having fun?"

"I am," I respond. "You're cool Rachel."

She really is, and I'm having a fucking great time, with Rachel Berry, and what was I so afraid of before? And why am I still sort of afraid now? And I'm a dick, a total dick who doesn't deserve to breath her air let alone kiss her, but I want to, over and over again, but right now I settle for reaching across the table and lacing my fingers through hers.

"I'm having a really lovely time Finn," she says sweetly, combing her hair behind her ear.

"Me too."

I don't know how she ends up pressed against her front door at the end of the date, my lips attached to hers, her hands in my hair, my hands everywhere she'll allow them to be. It's too much for a first date kiss, I know, but who gives a shit?

* * *

I still don't know how to be around her at school, what our relationship even is. Whether I can kiss her in the hallway, whether I even want to because I know that they'll torture me and pretty much crucify her over it. And there's still the matter of me accidentally putting her in a cast and her being blissfully unaware of it, and the fact that she knows things about me that I never wanted anyone to know, and it's all so utterly and completely fucked up and if I had any sense I'd back the fuck off because this whole thing with Rachel is impossible for so many reasons and we could never in a million years have something even close to a normal relationship. She's right, I'm no good for her, not after the things I've said and done to her, it doesn't matter how guilty I feel about it now, those things still happened. She's kidding herself with me and I'm kidding myself with her, but it won't matter the next time I see her because I won't be able to do a thing about it, I won't be able to stop myself from kissing her again, and she won't be able to stop herself from kissing me back, and I guess we're just fucked

I stand by my locker, not waiting for her, but not not waiting for her either. I called her last night, like I said I would, I told her that I would see her at school, but I had no idea what I would actually do or say when I saw her, but still I'm here, because I can't be afraid of her anymore, we're way past that. But it isn't her that shows up at my locker.

"I need to talk to you," he says, grabbing my jacket and pulling me down the hall, into the restroom without awaiting my protest.

"Dude, what's wrong?" I say as he checks under the stalls, making sure nobody is around to hear whatever he needs to say.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on bro?" Puck says, marching up to me, fire behind his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" I say, even though I know damn well what he's talking about.

"Are you stupid? I know what I mean. You haven't talked to me in days, you haven't been to band practice, you broke up with Quinn, you're doing this play and now I hear you were with Rachel fucking Berry at The Coffee Bean yesterday, holding her hand?"

My jaw tightens at his words, because I can't deny them.

"Who saw?" I choke out.

"So it's true?" Puck says. "Are you like together or something?"

I don't know really know how to answer that.

"I don't know, maybe," I admit.

"Dude, what the fuck is going on with you?" Are you really that messed up over what happened to Rachel, because in case you haven't noticed, she's fine, she'll heal, but this new Finn act you have going is going to haunt your ass forever."

"What if it's not an act?" I say, not sure where the words are coming from, but not being able to deny them as I say them. "What if the last two years have been an act?"

"Bullshit dude," Puck says. "You're just upset that we hurt Rachel now you're losing it."

"I lost it when Kurt died Puck," I say out of nowhere, my voice breaking again, and he takes a step back at the sight of tears gathering in my eyes. "I just couldn't admit it, I couldn't admit that I stopped knowing myself after it happened, that I wanted to be someone else because being me was too goddamn painful and nobody protested because they didn't want to deal with it anymore than I did, but Rachel, she knew, she's always known and when... I just. I can't keep pushing her away, not after what happened, I can't."

"Dude, why didn't you tell me any of this?" Puck says, his voice softening. "I mean, I never even knew that you were that messed up over Kurt."

"Nobody did, because I didn't let them, and after what we did, something inside of me just snapped and I couldn't run from it anymore, I couldn't keep letting myself be that guy. And the truth is if Kurt were still alive he'd fucking hate me, he'd hate me Puck."

"What is this chick doing to you?" Puck says, shaking his head.

"Puck have you ever looked at Rachel Berry, I mean really looked at her?" I say then, needing him to understand, because in spite of everything, he's still my friend.

"Yeah she's hot in a freaky sort of way I guess," he says, shrugging.

"No, it's not just that," I say, shaking my head. "She's sad. She puts on this brave front because it keeps her strong but she's so fucking sad underneath it all, because she wants so much but above everything else she just wants someone to care, she wanted me to care and I threw it back in her face, and I can't do that anymore."

"You can't be with Rachel because you feel sorry for her Finn," Puck says.

"No you're not getting it," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. "I like her Puck, even when I hated her I liked her. The first time I heard her sing I knew there was something about her and she's been in my head ever since, even when I tried everything to force her out of it. I just, I have to stop fighting this. It's too real now."

"Did you fuck her or something?" he says, narrowing his eyes a little.

"No, I kissed her," I explain. "And Jesus Christ when I kissed her it all hit me that much harder."

"Look dude, I'm happy if you're happy but you have to face the fact, if this gets out it's over."

"I know, I know things aren't going to ever be the same again for me," I say, rubbing my forehead.

"I'm not just talking about you," Puck says. "Do you have any idea the kind of clout Quinn has at this school, if she finds out about this she's going to make Rachel's life a living hell, you know that right?"

"I can protect her," I say, swallowing hard, because I really don't know if I can, but I have to.

I can tell he wants to say more, but he bites back the words.

"Look man, for what it's worth I'm sorry," Puck says. "We never should have pulled that shit with Rachel, I knew it was wrong but I just got so used to following Dave, I didn't even think twice about it."

"I was there too man," I say, clapping him on the back. "I can't change what happened, no matter how much I want to, I just have to live with it forever."

"You're not going to tell her are you?" Puck says, more scared than angry.

"I don't know," I say, running my hand over my hair. "I don't think I can."

"Whatever you do, just be careful dude, that's all I ask," Puck says, and he claps me on the back and we both exit the bathroom, and I see her there at her locker, clearly looking for me and I take a deep breath. This is real, it's happening, I can't turn back now, and I don't want to.

"Hey," I say warmly, and she says it back, and we don't do anything else because neither of us are ready for that yet, but I'll have to be ready sooner or later, because these feelings aren't going away.

* * *

I'm not sure if they notice, the way she smiles at me, the way I so nervously return the smiles, I don't think they do. They're rehearsing the Tango Maureen, one of the few scenes I'm not in, and while I'm not trading smiles with Rachel I enjoy watching Blaine show Mercedes the proper way to tango, and Mercedes looking pretty damned annoyed about it.

"Maybe if you'd stop stepping all mover my feet I'd be able to keep up pretty boy," Mercedes complains.

"It's because you can't keep up that I'm stepping on your feet," Blaine argues. "The tango is all about being in sync, you have to feel it, no hesitation."

They take a short break, and as Mercedes glares daggers at Blaine Rachel creeps up to me as quietly as her crutches will allow.

"I'm getting another X-Ray next week," she whispers over to me. "They'll be able to see how fast I'm healing, I have a good feeling about this Finn."

I hope to god her good feeling is right.

"I'm going to kill that dance, I mastered the tango at 18 months old in spite of the sheer ineptitude of my dance partner."

I have to smile at that.

"Okay, they're going to start again, I'll talk to you after rehearsal okay?" and she returns to her seat.

I can't help but notice she looks nervous after rehearsal, not really a bad nervous, more like an excited nervous, I also notice that her eyes are more fixed on Blaine than usual, and as she twists her hair and bounces a little on her good leg I figure it out, it makes sense, he seems to be the nicest of them all, the nicest to her specifically. She looks at me then, clearly searching for some sort of encouragement from me. I shoot her a smile and glance the way she's looking, toward Blaine, and she smiles back, takes a deep breath and clomps up to him.

"Hi Blaine," she says sweetly, holding him back as the others go on about their day. "You were really good today."

"Um, thanks Rachel," he says, clearly a bit confused.

"You're very welcome," she replies, and she looks back at me, and I nod, and she looks back at Blaine.

"You know the Lima Bean?" she says hesitantly.

"I know of it," he says, clearly still confused.

"Well I wanted to know if you would like to go with me... for coffee."

He knits his brow, still confused, I'm not sure if I blame him, it is pretty out of the blue, but she has to start somewhere.

"Rachel, you realize that I'm gay right?" he says carefully.

"I'm aware, and I accept you," she says, her confidence building. "I have two gay fathers."

"Um, that's great," Blaine says, his voice going up at the end like it's a question.

"But I'm actually asking you on a strictly platonic basis," she explains. "And I'm free now actually."

"Um, I'm sorry Rachel, that sounds nice, but I'm actually busy this afternoon, my brother Cooper's coming in from LA and we were going to have lunch."

Her face falls, and my heart sinks a little, at least it sounds like a legitimate excuse.

"Well, okay," she says, putting on a weak smile. "I guess I'll see you at the next rehearsal then."

"Yeah, I'll see you," he says, returning the weak smile and turning away, clearly ready to put the awkwardness behind him, and she turns toward me and shrugs, as if it's no big deal, but I can tell that she's hurt.

"Hey Rachel?" Blaine says, turning back, and we both look up at him. "I am free tomorrow, if you still wanted to have coffee that is."

She looks back at me then, beaming, and I raise my eyebrows playfully at her before she turns again to face him.

"Sure, tomorrow sounds great," she says, clearly trying to keep her cool and not entirely succeeding, because it's not everyday Rachel Berry makes a friend.

"Well, see you tomorrow, later Finn," Blaine says and he turns back around again, leaving the two of us alone.

"Oh my god," Rachel squeals, and I know she would jump up and down if she could. "I have a friend date, god, who knew it was that easy?"

"It's exactly that easy," I tell her, and I come closer so she can hug me tight. "Now just be yourself, the self you were with me and you'll be fine."

"Thank you," she says warmly.

"Well, I kind of owe you," I reply. "I owe you a lot actually."

And before I know it her lips are on mine again, or mine are on hers, it's getting harder to tell who's kissing who the more we do it. And as she breaks away from me I rest my forehead against hers and she rubs her nose with mine a little.

"What am I doing with you?" she says a bit playfully.

"I don't know," I answer back, touching her hair, and I close the distance between us again, kissing her again, exploring the sweetness of her mouth with my tongue, and this is just so right, it's terrifying how right this feels, and even though I still want her in ways that I can't repeat out loud, for now this is enough.

"Hold on," I say, parting from her this time, noticing the way she leans in, wanting to prolong the kiss, but there will be plenty of time for that later. I leave her for a moment, finding the thick black pen she uses to make notes on her script and I return to her, getting down on my knees as I uncap the pen and start to write.

_Get better soon,_

I hesitate for a second over whether to write _love Finn,_ or just _Finn,_ but in the end I decide it's nicer the first way, so I go for it, replace the cap on the pen, and press a light kiss to her knee before standing up again.

"You signed my cast," she says, her voice breaking a bit.

"Just breaking it in, I want that to be the first of many," I reply. And she kisses me, a thank you for something as simple as signing her cast, encouraging her to make a friend, just being better. This isn't going to be easy, I know better than that. Her dads hate me, my friends hate her, my ex girlfriend hates us both and will most definitely be out for blood as soon as she catches wind of this. But right now, I simply couldn't care less.

_Another fluffy chapter, but the angst is far from over, they both still have a lot to overcome together and separately, nobody said change was easy. Stay tuned folks!_


	10. Little Talks

We spend the next two nights talking on the phone, she calls me both times, the first just to talk, the second to tell me how things went with Blaine.

"Once we warmed up to each other it was actually quite nice. I even made him laugh, can you believe that?" she says excitedly.

"Well you make me laugh, so yeah, I can believe it," I tell her, and I can almost hear her smile on the other end of the call. "He signed my cast too, I just had to ask, he was happy to do it."

"Sometimes that's all it takes," I assure her. "Making the first move, I wouldn't recommend that with any of the cheerleaders just yet though, they kind of get a high out of stomping all over peoples feelings, they're like vampires who feed on your self respect."

"What about Brittany? She seems sweet," she replies, and I have to admit I'm baffled by that statement, surely if Rachel caught Brittany cheating on Santana she wouldn't think she was sweet.

"Well, you're a lot more forgiving than I am," I tell her. "I haven't told Santana because she's my friend for all intents and purposes but still, every time I'm around them now it's just super awkward. And I can't keep coming up with excuses when Brittany asks me to help with her drumming."

"What are you talking about?" Rachel says. "Did Brittany cheat on Santana?"

I knit my brow in confusion, she didn't forget that too did she? Should I remind her? Or just keep that can of worms good and closed? I choose the second option, if she doesn't remember what she saw it could only be a good thing, if I tell Dave she doesn't know anything he'll leave her alone, granted he's kept his distance, but I can see the tension in his face every time he looks at her, he's still afraid she's going to let it slip and it's only a matter of time before he tries to fuck with her again.

"Never mind," I say, shaking my head.

We talk for two straight hours that night, and I'm thinking she might be my girlfriend, how the hell did that happen?

It's Saturday, movie night, her dads are going to be away, and I'm thinking they stopped worrying about her bringing boys home a long time ago. I run lines with Santana in the morning, and we practice our kissing scenes, which is kind of awesome because Santana is really hot, but also sort of weird because we've been friends since grade school and I've never really thought about her that way, and I know damn well she doesn't think about me that way, still it's never not nice to kiss a pretty girl, even if it's not as nice as kissing a certain other pretty girl. Santana's really good, and I can kind of see why she wants to be a movie star, she'd make a good one.

I go to the grocery store next to get snacks for movie night, I get sour patch kids and junior mints and raisinets, and I ask the stock boy if microwave popcorn is vegan, and I get ready to check out when I see... Him.

He looks bad, his hair has gone grayer in the several months since I last saw him, his eyes are sad, he's lost weight but not in a good way, it looks like he hasn't even heard of a razor, and as much as I want to hate the man, I can't do it, but that doesn't mean I want to see him. It's difficult avoiding anyone in a small town, but I've managed it for a good while and that can't end now. I put the snacks on the counter and turn away quickly, I'll go to another store, I just can't do this right now.

"Finn?"

Shit.

I still think about leaving, just not turning around, just walking out without another word, but instead I turn around to face him, my hands shoved in my pockets, my jaw tight. He smiles weakly and scratches the rough stubble on his chin, clearly as uncomfortable with this whole situation as I am, I wonder if he could go thirty seconds back in time would he just pretend not to see me.

"You-you look good kid," he says.

"Thanks," I say, under my breath.

"How is everything, how's school?"

"Same," I reply.

"How's whatsherface? Quinn? How's Quinn?"

"We, um, we broke up, a few days ago actually."

"Sorry to hear that," he says sincerely. I just shrug, it is what it is.

"H-how's your mom?" he says then and I was wondering when it would come up, and I can tell by the sad look in his eyes at the question that he's sorry, that he still loves her, just not enough to stay I guess.

"How do you think Burt?" I sigh defeatedly. And the guilty look on his face makes it even harder to hate him. "I'll see you around," I leave without another word, and he doesn't stop me.

After grabbing more snacks at the 7 11 I go home to change, it's almost two, my mom usually works until five on Saturdays, but her car is in the driveway, and her purse is on the counter when I come inside, and I wonder what's going on.

"Mom?" I call out, she isn't in her usual place, maybe she got a ride or something and just forgot her purse. Maybe there's something wrong with the car, but why didn't she call me to take a look at it?

"Mom," I call out again, and I check her room, but there's something blocking the door. I push hard and I hear a light thud on the other side of the door and I can see a hand through the small gap.

"Mom!" I yell in a panic, and I try to get the door open as gently but quickly as I can. I succeed, scrambling into her room, I comb her hair out of her face, she's barely conscious and her brow is sweaty and this isn't just booze, I've seen her drunk before, this is worse.

"Mom, talk to me, tell me what happened," I say through choked sobs, she doesn't answer, she simply mumbles nonsense, I get out my cell and dial 911 frantically, and for a split second, without really knowing why, I wonder if the woman on the other end is the same woman I talked to about Rachel.

"What is your emergency?"

"I need an ambulance," I tell her, my voice shaking. "I came home and my mom was passed out in her room, I don't know if she took something or what but she's not moving or speaking."

She tells me to stay calm, I think they have to say that, and she tells me they're sending someone right away.

I ride with her in the ambulance, she starts to come to a little along the way, but nothing she tells them is particularly helpful, she mostly just talks to me, tells me she loves me so much and she's so happy I'm here. And I try not to cry.

"Finn honey?" she slurs.

"Yeah mom?" I say, my voice breaking.

"You're a good boy," she says, reaching out to touch my face, and I place my hand over hers and squeeze it a little. "Such a good boy."

"Trust me, I'm not," I reply. "It's going to be okay mom," I continue after a pause. "You're going to be alright."

They don't think she was trying to kill herself, they make sure that's the first thing I know when they meet me in the waiting room because they know it's what I was most worried about. She took only a bit more than a normal dosage of Ambien, but taking it with Vodka made it hit her a lot harder. I'm relieved for the most part, relieved and disappointed, in her but mostly in myself, because she just never stopped falling apart did she? And what help am I? All of those times I should have said something, should have done something, I could have even told Burt to call her, pleaded with him, but instead I just let her sink lower and lower because I never knew what the hell to say. I'm useless.

I call up Puck because I know he won't ask any questions, he takes me to pick up my car and I drive back to pick Mom up. I'll put her to bed and maybe we'll talk in the morning, or maybe I'll avoid the issue the way I always do because I fail as a son just like I failed as a brother, I help her out of the car once we get back. She's still groggy but she manages to walk without much help, but I notice the way she stops as I try to help her inside.

"Mom?" I say confusedly.

"Who's that?" she says, her gaze going toward the side of her house, and I look where she's looking and see who it is that she's seeing and this really is the worst day ever.

"Uh-I'm sorry," Rachel says, looking embarrassed as she sees me helping my mom into the house, my mom dressed in her pajamas with a hospital bracelet on, and it hits me, we had a date tonight and at this point I'm about three hours late, and she must have called, and goddamn it.

"Rachel I," I start.

"It's okay Finn," she says. "I didn't, I mean. I should go, I'm sorry."

She leaves then and part of me wants to call after her, but I just can't.

I don't call her that night, and I don't pick up when she calls me, I fall asleep at eight and wish this stupid day would end already.

My mom is already gone in the morning and I would feel better about her feeling well enough to go to work if I thought she actually did, and wasn't just trying to avoid me after yesterday. I have some coffee, call my mom to make sure she's okay, she says that she is, I don't believe her but I let it go. I take a shower, I think about calling Rachel, I don't call Rachel, I sit in front of the TV not really watching it, I think about calling Rachel, I still don't call, she calls me, I don't answer, I fall asleep in front of the TV. I wake up at ten, think about doing something, I don't do anything, I fall asleep again.

I'm jerked away by the sound of the doorbell, I check my watch, it's 10:30 I think seriously about ignoring the door, but I can't ignore what I hear next.

"I know you're in there Finn Hudson, open up," It's Rachel, I should have known. I take a deep breath and get up to answer the door. She doesn't look angry, she looks concerned, and pretty.

"Hi," I say weakly.

"Is your mother okay?" she says carefully. I nod.

"She's at work," I explain.

"That's good," Rachel says awkwardly.

"I- I'm sorry," I start. "I'm sorry I didn't call I just..."

I trail off and she nods.

"Finn, what happened yesterday?"

I really don't want to talk about it, I don't say anything.

"Did you want to talk about it?" she asks me.

"No," I say, not rudely.

"Do you want me to leave?"

I pause for a moment, thinking it over. Her eyes are so wide and pretty, and she looks like she just wants to hug me and make everything better.

"No," I finally say. And she gives me a small smile. And I step aside to let her in.

She doesn't know what to say to me, I can tell, and I meant what I said, I don't want to talk about this, I really don't, but the words come anyway.

"My mom she..." I start hesitantly, and she steps up to me slowly. "She's just been having a hard time I guess, since. Well Kurt, and then, well, my stepfather he..."

"Finn it's okay," she says, taking my hand and squeezing it a little.

"I never know what to say to her anymore you know?" I continue. "I want to help her but I just, I don't know what to say to her and she just keeps... I mean she needs help I know but I just... I don't know how to fix it, I don't-" and she cuts me off, kissing me tenderly, and my hand comes up to touch her hair.

"It's alright," she repeats.

"I don't know what's happening to me," I say, swiping at my tears. "I haven't cried in so long now I feel like it's all I ever do."

"You're grieving Finn," she explains. "You're finally letting yourself miss him."

"I know," I say, exhaling sharply. "It sucks."

"It won't always," she says, cupping my cheek. "Not as much anyway."

"Is that how it was for you?" I continue. "When your mom died? Your real one?"

She gives me a confused look then.

"I'm sorry," I continue. "I just, I remember that essay you read in class back in ninth grade, that assignment we did about loss."

"It was a long time ago," she says. "And yeah, it still hurts sometimes but the happy outweighs the sad when I think about her now. It'll come, for you and your mom."

I nod and I manage half a smile.

"Come on," she says, taking my hand and leading me to the couch. "I brought Funny Girl, and cookies."

She cries at the end of Braveheart, and she tells me all about her favorite scenes in Funny Girl, and we eat sour patch kids and chocolate chip cookies, and watch a rerun of Inside The Actor's Studio afterwards and I fall asleep on her shoulder, and she combs my hair with her fingers, and it's a good day.

She wakes me up when the show is over and tells me she has to leave and I kiss her because I don't want her to leave, it works, she kisses me back and I pull her into my lap, needing her closer.

"Finn, I have to go," she, repeats, giggling as I kiss her neck.

"No, stay," I say, kissing her again. "Just another half hour," I plead.

"And what exactly were you planning to do in that half hour?" she teases.

And I answer her with another kiss to her open mouth, I kiss her hard and deep, running my hands over her back, letting her touch my hair the way I'm convinced she really likes to do, and she sighs a little as my lips travel down, and I plant them all over her hot skin, and as my hands go lower she pulls back a little. And I know I can't solve all of my problems like this, but for right now, everything wrong in my life seems to fade away.

"I'm sorry," I say, resting my forehead on her chest. "I don't want to go too fast, not if you don't want me too."

"No," she says hesitantly, her voice shaky as she tilts my head up, making me look at her. "I want you Finn, it's just-

"You can have me," I say desperately, my voice breathy. And I capture her lips with mine again, sucking a little, and I kiss down her chin and her jaw and her collarbone and I hold her tighter, whispering into her neck. "You can have every part of me."

I look at her again, noticing the blush that reaches her face.

"I don't know if I'm ready for that yet," she says a bit shyly.

"That's okay," I whisper between soft kisses to her mouth and face and any other part my lips can find. "I'd do anything to you, but I can wait. Just tell me what you want, when you want it."

"Well," she says her breathing heavy and unsteady. "Right now... I want your hands."

And I stop kissing her then, and look into her eyes, searching for any traces of uncertainty, and seeing none.

"You want me to touch you?" I say, my voice a bit choked.

"I don't want to have sex," she explains. "But I want to feel something... more. I'm sorry, I know that's selfish."

"I like selfish," I insist.

"Can you touch me Finn?"

The fact that she even has to ask blows my mind, does she know how long I've dreamed about this? But that was before, when I didn't even understand the things I felt when I looked at her, the urges that my mind couldn't make sense of. It's so much stronger now with me knowing her the way I do, wanting to know more, caring about her in ways I didn't know were possible.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself, I can't come in my pants, because that would just ruin everything, but I'm so hard right now it's ridiculous, and I'm sure she can feel it, straddling my lap the way she is. I breath deep and go for it, reaching under her skirt, and she quivers a bit in my hands as my fingers lightly brush over her panties, already so wet, and I start to throb even harder and my mind goes to the time I accidentally ran down a mailman during a practice driving session with my mom, and I'm okay to keep going. I push her panties aside and I start slow, softly rubbing her soft folds with my fingers, and even with the light, careful touches her breath speeds up and she sighs a little, so I go deeper, slowly sliding my finger inside of her, inch by inch until it's all the way in and she exhales sharply as I twist it a little, feeling every inch of her hot, tight center. I pull out then, my finger slick with her juices, and we trade soft smiles.

"More," she says in a choked whisper, and I smirk a little and slip two fingers inside her then, stretching her a little, and she breathes harder and I start to pump my fingers in and out, slowly at first, teasing her, making her moan softly and bite her lip as I push her closer to the edge.

"Finn," she breathes, and I press on, faster and faster, not stopping for anything.

"How does that feel?" I whisper, twisting my fingers in and out, and I lightly brush my thumb over her clit and her entire body clenches just with that light, soft touch.

"It's... It's," she can't finish her sentence, and I know I'm doing this right, and I kiss the sensitive skin under her chin and her breath catches in her throat, and I keep going, moving my fingers in and out of her, rubbing her most sensitive place harder and faster with my thumb, and she's shaking so hard and breathing so fast and she's close, I can tell.

"Come for me Rachel," I whisper against her ear, and her arm tightens around me and she pulls my hair and she's holding onto me so tight like she's trying to keep from floating away as she lets out that loud pleasure cry that I've wanted to hear for so damn long.

"Like music," I sigh, pulling my fingers out of her. She probably doesn't know what I mean, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't care.

"That was good," she says after a few silent moments. "That was so... so good."

"Was that the first time you've ever..."

She nods shyly, and I press my lips against hers again.

"And I did good?" I whisper into her mouth.

"You did perfect," she sighs dreamily, letting me hold her as we wilt against each other.

Today is a very good day.

**I know a lot happened in this chapter that wasn't resolved, but we'll get there, trust me. Also, I hope I didn't piss anyone off with the Finntana references, I still sort of ship them (mostly as friends though) but don't worry, finchel is my OTP foreva. Stay tuned folks!**


	11. Get Happy

She still doesn't want to talk about it, I can tell by the way she avoids eye contact at all costs the next morning. She fixes coffee and goes on about her job, and that tramp Valerie who's always openly flirting with the boss, and she talks too fast for me to get a word in edgewise, but I manage to cut her off anyway, speaking firmly and loudly.

"Mom?"

She just looks at me, her eyes wide, as if part of her knows what's coming, a very small part. How many times have I started this conversation without ever finishing it? But I have to, before one day I come home and find her a lot worse off. I went over this with Rachel, I called her last night knowing that I'm the worst kind of person for relying on her so much after what I've done to her, but I can't help it, she's the only one I can talk to about this, she's the only one who seems to understand what I'm going through, who even seems to care.

"Can you sit down for a second?" I continue, and she does, slowly, still looking at me as if she's the kid and I'm the parent, and she knows that she's done something wrong. I take Rachel's advice and stay calm, if I come across as angry she'll get defensive.

"Mom, I need to talk to you... about. I need to talk about..." I went over this in my head so many times, but it's so much harder now. "It's just... I've been worried... about you, for a long time now and I just...

I trail off and I can see her reaching for her purse and rising from her seat. "Honey I know what you're going to say and-

"I saw Burt," I interrupt, nowhere in the speech I went over in my head did my run-in with Burt come up, but for some reason I can't keep it in, probably because she looks like she's trying to talk her way out of this already, tell me she's fine, that she's running late for work and we can talk about this later, even though I know she isn't and I know we won't. "At the store, I saw him and he looked really sad mom."

She sinks back into her seat then, just like I knew she would.

"He looked the way you do all the time now," I continue. "He tried to hide it, make small talk and all that but I could tell, he never got over what happened to Kurt, just like you never got over our family falling apart."

"Finn, what are you doing?" she says quietly. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I've sat here watching you destroy yourself ever since he walked out and I can't do it anymore. I mean he's still your husband mom there must be a reason."

"You're a kid Finn," she says, her voice shaking. "It isn't up to you to fix me, or my marriage."

"That's not what I'm doing," I protest. "But you're my mom, if there's a problem shouldn't I say something?"

"No, you should focus on your education and not concern yourself with things you don't understand," she says, raising her voice.

She doesn't mean that, she's just upset, and scared, I know, I've been there, I'm still there, the difference is I've learned to admit it to myself.

"You think I don't understand?" I say, my voice breaking. "Kurt wasn't just my stepbrother mom, he was my best friend, and Burt was the closest thing I've ever had to a dad."

"And he left Finn," she cuts in sharply, tears still in her eyes. "And I'm dealing with it the best way I know how."

"By crawling into a bottle every night after work?"

I regret saying it as soon as the words angrily leave my mouth, because it's not like I've dealt with my grief in the healthiest ways either. I can't stand the look on her face right now, that hurt look. I reach for her hand, and it stings a little when she pulls it away.

"I have to go," she says, frantically, yanking her purse onto her shoulder as she gets up.

"Mom, I'm sorry," I say, trying to get up after her, but she's gone in such a hurry that I'm certain she doesn't even hear it.

This could have gone so much better.

* * *

She always gets to school early, I'm counting on that, I leave right after my mom, not even bothering to have breakfast first. I get to school and it doesn't take long for me to find her reading in the courtyard, and the disappointment of this morning starts to fade as she looks up at me and smiles that perfect smile of hers, and god she really is beautiful, not just sort of hot in a freaky way, but actually honest to god beautiful. It isn't obvious at first glance, but the more I look at her the more it creeps up on me and the less I can really deny it.

I sit across from her, returning the smile and hoping if I don't look too sad she won't ask how things went with my mom. I'm not sure why I don't want to talk about it, I should want to talk about it, but I don't. It just seems like such a strange thing to admit failing at, and I know how naive it was to think I could fix everything with one talk, but I guess part of me thought I might be getting somewhere with her. But I guess that was before my anger reared it's ugly head again and I sent her out the door before I could even apologize.

"Good book?" I ask, hoping to keep the conversation away from me and the fact that I can't hold off on being an angry jerk for long enough to help my mother.

"It's Get Happy," she explains. "The official biography of Judy Garland. I'm doing a history project on her."

"Sounds interesting," I say. "I don't really know much about her, except she was really good in the Wizard of Oz, that was her right?"

She nods at my question. "She lived this unbelievably tragic life," She says, placing a bookmark in place and shutting it. "It's kind of an ironic title."

"Maybe we can watch another one of her movies next time," I say, shrugging.

"I'd love that," she beams. "Meet me in St. Louis is a must, you'll love it Finn."

"I trust you," I say. "I liked that other one, Funny Woman."

"Funny Girl," she corrects me, a laugh in her voice.

"Yeah, Funny Girl," I say. And I'm not sure why I choose now but I lean over the table and press my lips against hers and our mouths move against each other still as I make my way around the table to get closer to her.

"Finn, public displays of affection are strictly forbidden," she protests, giggling into my mouth as she kisses me back.

"Nobody here," I answer between kisses.

"Except that proctor over there," she says, breaking away long enough to point at the orange vested guard giving us the stink eye.

"Janitor's closet?" I suggest, raising my eyebrows at her.

"They actually do that?" she says.

"Only before school, never after, that's when the actual janitor uses it," I explain.

Her face looks thoughtful, as if the idea actually excites her, and this girl just never stops surprising me.

"Will we get caught?" she says shyly.

"Not if we hurry," I say, grabbing her crutches and picking her up from her seat as soon as orange vest guy turns away, making her squeal and giggle as I carry her in one arm. It doesn't take long for us to find ourselves there, attacking each others bodies against the shelves, my hands everywhere, her hands everywhere too. This never stops being awesome, everything else in my life is a constant shitfest except for this, Kurt's dead, Burt's gone, my mom is a train wreck, I'm holding onto a secret that claws at me every time I close my eyes at night, but this, being with her, this is good.

"Finn?" she whispers, gently parting from me. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I assure her, not knowing exactly why she's asking. "Why?"

"Because you're shaking a little bit," she explains. I am? If I am I didn't notice.

"I'm fine Rachel," I say, smiling as I try to kiss her again, but she doesn't let me, she stops me with one hand and I know I won't get off that easy.

"Did something happen this morning?" she asks carefully, fuck, how does she always know? "Did you talk to your mom?"

And I deflate against the shelves then, rubbing my forehead in frustration.

"Is it okay if I don't want to talk about it?" I say quietly.

"Finn," she says softly, closing the short distance between us and wrapping her arms around my waist. "Of course I'm not going to make you talk about anything you don't want to, it's just that..."

"What?"

"Sometimes I feel like you use sex as a distraction from your problems," she explains, "And I'm not sure if that's always going to work Finn."

"Rachel if you really think the only reason I want to make out with you in a janitor's closet or finger you on the couch is because I'm upset then you're really underestimating yourself."

She blushes a little at the comment, but I know she's not done yet. "It's just, I really care about you Finn, and I don't want to take advantage of you."

"Take advantage of me, I'm begging you," I joke, and she smirks a little in spite of herself, but still doesn't look swayed.

"Okay," I continue. "It wasn't the best morning, I'll admit that, but I promise you I'm trying, I am. I don't want to be all pissed off all the time, I want to be, you know, open and stuff, with you, and everyone but especially with you."

"I know," she says nodding. "I know you do."

"Now can you please just make out with me for the next ten minutes?" I plead, and I know I sound like a puppy right now the way that she's looking at me, with so much amusement on her face.

"Fine," she relents. "But this is only because you're adorable when you beg."

I kiss her again, but it doesn't take long for her to break it again.

"Just one more thing," she says as I wilt against her shoulder.

"What's that?" I say, my voice muffled.

"Am I... I mean are you... are we together?" she stammers, and my eyes meet hers. Part of me knew this was coming, maybe I didn't think she would want to be in a couple with me considering our past, and I don't think she's pathetic, or desperate or any of the things she may fear being with me would make her. She's just forgiving, and compassionate and she understands me better than I understand myself, and there's only one way I can answer her question.

"I want to be with you Rachel," I tell her, taking her small hand in mine as I look nervously away "I just, I need you to know that I understand... I understand if you don't want to be with me too. I mean, why would you?"

"Hey, look at me," she says, grabbing my chin, forcing me to focus on her. "I'm not going to lie to you okay, some of the things you've said and done in the past have hurt me, a lot..."

"I know, and I'm so sorry-

"But," she continues, cutting me off, placing a soft hand on my chest. "I don't want that to be the way I look at you for the rest of my life, not now that I know what's in here. You're not that guy Finn, I don't think you ever really were."

"I think you give me too much credit," I say a bit sadly.

"I don't think you give yourself enough," she replies.

"There's something I want you to know," I say, softly combing her soft hair behind her ear. "I never hated you Rachel, not ever. It's just, you scared the hell out of me, the way you always seemed to see right inside of me, and I didn't want you to, I didn't want anyone to."

"And now?" she says.

"Something happened, something changed, and I can't tell you what that is," _because she'll hate me if I do, she'll hate me forever._ "But I can tell you that all I want now is to make you happy, and if that means being your boyfriend then I'll be the best one I can for you."

"I think I'd like that," she says, her eyes tearing up a little. "Will you tell me one day? What changed?"

I swallow hard. "One day," I lie in a choked whisper. I take her into my arms then, hugging her close.

"Welcome back Finn Hudson," she says, and I try to smile.

* * *

My heart pounds furiously in my chest as I walk down the hall alongside her, the bully and the loser, a couple. If I could hold her hand I would, but just being this close turns a few heads, not everyone knows I'm in the play yet, the posters don't go up for a couple of days, so all they can do is speculate why we're this close.

"Is this okay?" she says quietly. "Everyone's staring."

"Since when does that bother you?" I tease. "Let them stare." I don't think I care so much about what everyone thinks, I stopped caring about that the second I nearly killed the girl who ended up being the best person I know, but I do care about what Quinn will do if she finds out, how she'll lash out at Rachel to get back at me, it's not like she's subtle about how much she hates me, I just have to risk it.

We reach her class and I wonder if I should kiss her, but I don't end up having to make that decision, she stands on her good tiptoe and tilts her chin up expectantly, and I kiss her, only hesitating a moment.

"I'll see you after class okay?" I say gently, and she smiles and turns away.

I take a deep breath and continue down the hall, happy that nobody says anything, not to me directly anyway, I can see them whispering to each other but I find it hard to care about that. This might be okay, I think to myself as I enter my own class.

I don't see Quinn for the rest of the day, and the truth is I'm even more anxious than if I had, it's not like I'm afraid of her or anything, I just don't know how to begin explaining to her what my relationship with Rachel is. I don't see Quinn, but I let out a loud sigh when Dave approaches me by my locker, Rachel isn't here yet, and I'm thinking that's a good thing.

"Are you fucking kidding me Hudson," he seethes quietly but forcefully. "Rachel fucking Berry?"

"Dave you can't comment on who I date okay, if you haven't noticed our friendship, it's pretty much done."

"Why? Because of that night?" he continues. "It wasn't just us okay, you were there too."

"I know, and unlike you I feel like shit about it," I say. "Especially now, she's a nice girl Dave she doesn't deserve any of our shit."

"Nice? Two weeks ago you couldn't stand her."

"Well things change," I reply. "and I swear to god if you so much as look at her wrong from now on-

"What? What're you going to kick my ass? Good luck," he chuckles.

"Just leave her alone Dave, that's all I ask."

"That's not up to you, Finn," he says, a hard edge to his voice. "If you wanna fuck her fine, but that doesn't change the fact that I have unfinished business with her that doesn't got shit to do with you."

"She doesn't remember what happened with you and Brittany okay so just back off," I explain. "God only knows how bad we really fucked her up."

"Wait just a minute, you've been talking to Berry about me and Brittany?" he says, his voice shaking, and I don't understand the look in his eyes right now, the anger giving way to what looks like pure fear.

"No, but she works with both Brittany and Santana on the play, if she knew something she would have told me, but all she's said about Brittany is that she seems like a nice girl, why would she say that about someone who was cheating on her girlfriend?"

"Yeah," he says, his voice still shaking, and I wish I could figure out what was up with him. "I guess you're right."

As he walks away without another word I'm thinking something about this just seems too easy, maybe Quinn isn't the only one I need to worry about.

**Sorry for the short, uneventful chapter, just setting up for the next one, which should be a doozy. Stay tuned folks!**


	12. Pig's Blood

The next few days pass by uneventfully, mom seems to have already forgotten the half a conversation we had that day, or at least that's what she seems to want me to think as she avoids eye contact and forces small talk with me in the mornings. It isn't over between us, I can't let it be over, but I need to figure out what my next move is before I bombard her again, I have to make sure we make some sort of progress the next time around. I'm still worried about her, and I try to get home before she does every day just to keep an eye on her, she sees through it but there's not like there's much she can do about it.

I fill the rest of my time with football, the play and Rachel, good god Rachel, how did I survive this long without her? Without touching her and kissing her every chance I get, without listening to her yammering on and on about music and Broadway and most surprisingly, me. Everyone thinks she's so stuck on herself but every time we talk she seems to want to know more and more about me, and I find myself sharing things with her that I've never shared with anyone, little things like how much I love Hall and Oates, and when I tell her she immediately starts singing One on One, and she doesn't get to finish because as much as I love her voice I just can't help attacking her when she gets to the refrain, because Rachel singing Hall and Oates and wearing that skirt and smiling that smile, it's like radioactive Spanish fly.

I tell her more personal things too, things about Kurt, after we watched Meet me in St. Louis, we laid side by side on my bed, and I lazily traced her fingers with my own and I told her that Kurt would have loved it.

_"It was about three weeks before Halloween, when he died," I told her, and I wasn't sure how the conversation went from the movie to that, but I found myself talking about it anyway. "We had a bet going, Burt was backed up at the shop and he asked us to help. And Kurt bet that whoever could change the most tires at the shop in an hour would have to go as whatever the other wanted, he totally cheated but I couldn't prove it."_

"What did he pick?" she asked me, listening closely.

"I thought it would be something embarrassing like a fairy princess or something," I chuckle. "That's probably what I would have done, until he begged his way out of the bet like he always did, but no, he picked Captain Hook, he wanted to go as Peter Pan but he needed a Captain Hook, for the photo ops, he said. I would have done it anyway, I would have gotten a hook for a hand and a sword, I mean how awesome is that?"

"Very awesome," she agreed, and kissed away tears I didn't even know I was crying.

As much as I love everything about being with Rachel, there's still a sense of dread hanging over me that's just always there, that I can't shake, it's not just that night, although that's definitely enough. I see the way Quinn looks at us, the way everyone looks at us, like there's some sort of joke they aren't in on and it pisses them off. I hear the whispers, see them pointing as we make our way down the halls, and once the posters for the play go up the whispers turn into flat out openly mocking me, I stop threatening to kick their asses after Rachel tells me not to stoop to their level, and I'm surprised by easy it is to ignore after so much time spent fearing judgment from these people. I'm still worried about Rachel, they know not to mess with her too much in front of me, they all saw how I threatened Rick, and in spite of everything I still have enough shreds of my popularity left to instill some fear in them, but I constantly find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Play rehearsals are the only time I feel something resembling a sense of calm, nobody in the play has any real beef with Rachel, mostly they just avoid her except for Blaine, who is still trying to convince the others that she's not so bad once she calms down a little. I can tell that his words are as hard for them to believe as the fact that I've been openly dating her for three days now, but I have a feeling they'll all warm up to her too, maybe even Santana.

She's at the doctor's office today, and as rehearsal ends all I can think about is how I can't wait to tell her how I finally nailed "What You Own" I can tell I rocked it by the way everyone's flocking around me right now.

"Great job Finn," Blaine says, clapping me on the back as we finish.

"Yeah, seriously," Tina cuts in. "And you know I never got a chance to thank you for doing this for us."

"It's for me too, honestly," I say, even though that's not entirely true. I love being Roger Davis, but I can't pretend I wanted to be here at first.

"Hey Finn," Tina continues "I know you're probably busy that night because you know, you're you, but I'm kind of having this party at my house on Saturday, it should be pretty fun if you're interested, and everyone from the play will be there, except Santana of course because, well she's said numerous times that she thinks I'm creepy."

"Sorry babe nothing personal," Santana says coolly.

"Anyway, would you be interested?" Tina continues.

Looking at their hopeful faces all I can think is that this is the perfect opportunity to give Blaine a hand in operation get everyone on team Rachel.

"Sure," I say, making Tina and the others perk up immediately. "But only if Rachel can come too."

As I expected her face falls instantly, but I'll stand my ground.

"I don't know Finn, I mean I know she's your girlfriend and everything...

"Which I still don't even sort of get but live and let live I always say," Santana says, shrugging.

"But are you sure she's going to feel comfortable there, with everyone?"

"Don't act like you're worried about Rachel," Mercedes says. "You just don't want her loud ass ruining your party."

"Come on guys, Rachel's actually sort of cool," Blaine says. "I mean _I_ think she is."

"And she's dating Finn, there must be a reason," Artie says. "Besides, when have any of us actually spent any time with her outside of the play? We don't really even know what she's like when she's not being bossy and insane."

"It's up to you," I say, shrugging.

"Okay, sure, I'd love for her to come," Tina finally says. "But do you think you can get Mike Chang to come too? I think he's hot."

"We know," Artie says a bit bitterly.

"I'll see what I can do," I assure Tina.

I can't wait to tell Rachel.

* * *

She went to a show with her parents that night, and she spent today's lunch period studying in the library, forbidding me to join her because in her words I would just distract her by trying to feel her up under the table, and I can't say she's wrong, so I don't get to talk to her much throughout the day but I save her a seat at the after school anti drug assembly. They're announcing the nominees for homecoming King and Queen, and I can't think of a single thing I want to do less, but it's mandatory since they shortened all of our classes to accommodate it. It's going to be torture, the glee club won't even be performing this time around since most of them are busy with the play, so I don't even have Rachel's voice to look forward to. It's also useless for me to be here since I've probably killed my chances of even getting nominated at this point. Quinn will be fine, if anything the sympathy points gained from me breaking up with her will put her over the edge, even if I don't appreciate her exaggerating how big of a dick I was, I don't let it get to me.

Rachel comes in right after me, and I greet her with a kiss.

"Hey, I forgot to ask, how did everything go yesterday?" I say.

"Not good," she pouts. "My doctor says I'm making normal progress."

"Well that's a good thing right?" I say, confused.

"Finn, my progress has to be better than normal, the play is in two weeks," she says miserably, and I put an arm around her, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head, ignoring the way my heart clenches.

I look over at Quinn then, she's staring back at me with a look in her eyes I can't place, I try to shoot her a friendly smile but she only looks away, turning her attention back to the stage, I'm thinking I should talk to her at some point, I just hate not knowing what's going through her head, and it freaks me out that she hasn't confronted me about Rachel yet. I know I should be relieved but I just can't shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen. I turn my attention back to Rachel, noticing the way she still looks sort of sad, and I whisper over to her.

"I have some good news," I tell her, noticing the way she instantly perks up a litle.

"Ooh, what is it-

"Before we welcome our guest speaker I would like to give the following announcements..." Figgins says before I can answer, I figure I'll tell her after the assembly.

They don't even pretend to care what Figgins has to say, and Figgins is so half hearted with his settle downs that he proceeds with the announcements even though the crowd is far from settled down, it's only when they get to the homecoming nominations that the place quiets a little.

"The nominations for homecoming king are as follows," Figgins says in his familiar, bored drawl. "Rick 'The Stick' Nelson, Noah Puckerman, David Karofsky and Finn Hudson."

As the crowd cheers I simply knit my brow in confusion, I thought for sure Sam or Mike would get the fourth spot since I pretty much pissed away my big man on campus rep, somehow I don't miss it as much as I thought I would, it feels like a time not too long ago when Kurt was my best friend and I didn't really need anyone else telling me how to be. Still, Rachel nudges me encouragingly as they call my name and I force a smile, getting up to climb the stage and accept the white ribbon Figgins pins on the male nominees, ignoring the comments whispered under people's breath as I pass them.

"Looks like your freak girlfriend didn't fuck over your chances after all, congrats Hudson, but you still got no shot at that crown," Rick whispers over to me.

"I'm sure it'll look very pretty on you," I shoot back, making him glare at me. I ignore Rick and smile at Rachel who waves at me enthusiastically from the audience as Figgins starts reading the nominations for queen. There are no surprises for the first three, Quinn of course, who keeps her cool as she gracefully takes her place on the stage and receives the more elaborate sash Figgins gives to the girls and Santana and Brittany, who join us on stage hand in hand, making me swallow hard a little at how happy they both seem. Lastly I expect them to call up Missy Gunderson, but the name he calls instead makes my heart feel like it's stopped beating.

As they call her name the applause is immediately replaced with confused whispers, and Rachel herself simply looks shocked, and a bit scared, because on what planet, even in the one where she's been exclusive with the quarterback for the last three days, would Rachel Berry, school outcast, be nominated for homecoming queen?

Part of me hopes she doesn't stand up to receive her sash, because something awful is about to happen, I know it. But she does stand up, slowly, her eyes wide. The crowd is so silent that the sound of her crutches against the linoleum is deafening, and it only gets louder as she approaches the stage, like my heartbeat. I want to reach out and grab her hand, put her mind at ease somehow, maybe nothing is going to happen, it's the only reason I don't get her out of here, no need embarrassing her for no reason. I try to tell myself, maybe she got nominated for real, if I'm popular enough to still get nominated in spite of being in the school play and dating Rachel then maybe some of it rubbed off on her, maybe things really are better now. She looks at me as Figgins places the sash around her, and I mouth to her that everything's okay and she shoots me a nervous smile before she turns to take her place beside the others, but before she can take another step all of the reassurances I tried to give myself in the agonizing minute or so that just passed go up in smoke.

I hear the splash, and the scattered gasps in the audience followed by dead silence, and I can see her hair and face and clothes splattered with blue and brown, and the terrified, sickened look on her face, and god I can smell it and it nearly makes me gag, but still it doesn't seem real, not until Dave and Rick and a good chunk of the audience explodes in laughter. She's not on the stage two seconds before she rushes off as fast as her crutches will allow and I'm guessing the only reason they let her pass is because they don't want to to touch the stuff covering her. And I don't know who did this, whether it was Dave or Quinn or Rick or whoever, but I have no time to find out, no time to make them suffer for this, because I have to go after her.

I start off without a second thought, frantic, anxious, terrified. I need to find her, I need to make this okay because I owe her the world, and because she needs me, she needs somebody.

"What happened?" Blaine says, rushing out after me, a few others from the play in tow, but I can't give him a very detailed answer right now. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know, I have to go, after her," I say behind me.

I find her outside the door, hunched over, emptying the contents of her stomach onto the ground, crying and shaking miserably.

"Rachel," I choke out quietly.

"Go away," she says, her voice hoarse from throwing up.

"Rach I-

"Go away!" she yells tearfully, making me flinch, but I don't go, I inch closer. And I see what it is now, I can tell by the smell and the color and the bits of toilet paper clinging to her hair. Some asshole filled a bucket with waste from a port a John and dumped it on her, from the rafters over the stage they rigged the nominations just for the purpose of humiliating her in front of everyone.

"I'm sorry Rachel, I'm so sorry," I say, tears in my throat. "let me help you."

"Don't pretend like you care about me," she cries. "You planned this, you earned my trust and spit it right back in my face and I fell for it, I'm such an idiot."

"I didn't, I swear," I assure her. "I didn't know anything about this."

"I can't believe I thought you actually had feelings for me," she cries. She doesn't mean it, I know she doesn't, she's just freaked out right now and I don't blame her, but I have to get her out of here before someone else finds her. "I'm nobody."

"Listen to me Rachel," I say softly, kneeling beside her, I wince a little as I reach out for her, totally grossed out by the nasty substance covering her, but I place a gentle hand on her soiled hair anyway, stroking it, and she's shaking and crying so goddamned hard right now and I want to kill whoever did this. "Let me take you home... I'll take care of you I promise."

She finally looks at me then, her eyes wide. And I'm not sure if she trusts me or if she just doesn't have any other choice, but she finally nods.

We don't speak the whole way back to my house, she just cries while I rub her back with my free hand, and my car is going to smell for a week but I find it hard to care right now.

She starts to calm down a little as she rinses her mouth and I clean the few splashes of toilet sludge off her cast and tape it up in plastic, and I'm a little surprised that she silently lets me undress her as her bathwater runs. She lowers herself in and I leave only to put her clothes in the wash, but she's crying again when I return to the bathroom. I don't know what to say, because what can I say? I just dip the washcloth in the soapy water and begin to wash the filth from her body, I run the wet cloth over her shoulders and back and gently wipe around her face too. And I tell her to lean her head back so I can wash her hair.

"I can't go back there, I can't go back to that school," she finally says once I've rinsed the last traces of this awful day from her hair, her voice is choked and her eyes are bloodshot, and she just looks so small and sad.

"Don't you see?" I tell her, my voice firm but sympathetic at the same time. "That's exactly what they want."

"Why? Because I'm such a loser they can't stand to look at me?" she says bitterly, and I hate seeing her this way, I fucking hate it as much as I hate whoever did this to her.

"No, they're the losers," I continue. "They're all sad, pathetic Lima Losers in the making and they know it. But you, you're special, you're going to get out of here and do all of these amazing things, and you know that you deserve every bit of success you're going to get and you apologize to no one, that's why they try so hard to make you feel as miserable as they are, they're jealous, do you know how I know?"

"How?" she says so quietly I can barely hear her.

"Because I used to be just like them," I say, finally getting her to look at me. "Before you, this amazing, beautiful, talented girl brought me back, you did that Rachel, and you can't let them win, you can't let them break you. Because you're better than them, you're better than me, you're better than all of us."

She dissolves into tears again and I pull her wet, naked body close to mine and kiss her newly clean hair, comforting her the way she comforted me. "It's okay, it's going to be alright."

She practically disappears in my bathrobe, and she's nearly weightless as I carry her back to my bedroom, laying her gently down and laying beside her, my arms around her. I stroke her hair softly as she cries and whisper soothing words to her, I wish there was something more I could do, but all I have to give is a shoulder for her to cry on, at least until I can get my hands on whoever was responsible for this.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she says quietly after awhile.

"It doesn't matter," I reassure her.

"Finn?" she says, after a few more silent moments.

"Yeah?" I reply.

"Do I still smell bad?"

I bury my face in her neck, smelling her hair, making her giggle a little through her sadness. It smells like flowers.

"No, you smell good," I assure her.

"You know how you like to use sexual activity to make yourself feel better?"

"That's not why but I get what you're saying," I tease. "Why?"

"Because I think I want to do that," she answers. "If you're in the mood, I mean, after today I'd understand why you wouldn't be."

"Rachel, as far as you're concerned I'm always in the mood."

"Okay, good," she says, perking up only the slightest bit, and with her back still against me I inch the cloth of my bathrobe down from her shoulder, and I kiss her still damp skin, my lips sliding up from her shoulder to her neck. She's still not ready for sex, I can tell without her saying anything, and she's way too vulnerable and upset for me to try that with her now, but I want to make her feel good, and sexy and beautiful, all of the things she deserves to feel, this has to be about her right now. I'm cautious and gentle as I reach underneath the robe, cupping her small breast in my big hand, rubbing her softly and running my thumb over her hard nipple as she turns her head to meet my lips with hers. I kiss her firmly and deeply with every ounce of passion I feel for her, and my hand travels down slowly, parting the robe as I find my way between her legs. She sighs into my mouth as I touch her, rubbing her clit, making her tremble in my arms.

"Finn!" she gasps, breaking the long kiss shared between us, and her hand finds my hair and my mouth moves back to her neck, kissing her there while she pulls my hair. I'm already hard but I ignore it, I'll just have to take care of myself in the bathroom afterwards like last time.

"I want to know what you taste like," I whisper into her ear, I won't do it unless she says it's okay, and I pray a silent prayer that she does, without hesitation she nods, and I do an inward victory dance as I move her onto her back and reposition myself on top of her. The robe has fallen away from her body and I take in the sight of her gorgeous body, still a little moist and glistening from the bath, and I run my hand down her body, exploring it with my hands as I take her in with my eyes.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," I sigh as I run my hands over every part of her.

"I want to see you too," she says then, she's not asking, she doesn't have to. I can't believe I'm actually blushing as I unbutton my shirt and pull if off, the rest of my clothes come off quickly, and I'm a little nervous as I kneel in front of her. I know I'm not as tan and ripped as Puckerman, but she doesn't seem to mind as she sits up, tracing the freckles on my shoulders and chest with her delicate fingers and making my stomach drop a little when her eyes reach the massive erection I'm sporting right now, I have to say the look on her face at the sight of it makes me feel a bit like the man.

"You have a pretty body Finn Hudson," she says sincerely and I smile wide and press my lips to hers again, laying her down gently on the pillows, and my mouth travels down, over her neck and her chest and she gasps softly as I go lower and start to suck on her nipple, first one then the other. I could do this all day, they fit so perfectly and feel and taste so good in my mouth, but I want to taste more of her and the way she's moaning and breathing so hard I can tell she wants more too, so I continue to kiss down her stomach as I gently part her thighs and pull her down to the edge of my bed, positioning myself on the floor in front of her. I pause to look at her once more, waiting for a final nod of approval before I dive in. With one gentle lick her entire body thrashes a little, and she lets out this sound, this gasp slash laugh slash squeal that's somehow both amusing and sexy, and I smirk a little before I lick her again and she tries to keep herself still this time, but her body still quivers as I go deeper, parting her slit with my tongue and tasting the sweetness that flows from her. My dick is insanely, painfully hard right now, but I'm too lost in what I'm doing, in the taste and scent of her to think of anything else. I grip her thighs tightly, stilling her and keeping my own body in check as I lap away, licking and sucking her thoroughly, making her shake almost uncontrollably until her short breaths and moans escalate to that loud, musical scream of hers.

I come against the side of my bed as I finish, breathing hard and wiping my mouth as I try to drag my body back onto the bed, laying beside her once again, taking her into my arms and kissing her cheek, both of us totally spent.

"Feel better?" I pant after a few silent moments. And she nods.

"That felt so good," she cries, her own breaths short and labored. "Thank you."

"Anytime," I reply, stroking her wet hair and kissing her softly on the temple. She falls asleep next to me almost immediately, and I'll make sure to wake her up before it becomes too late to explain her absence to her dads, who she understandably still hasn't told about me. But for now though, I just let her sleep in my arms.

**A/N: The only thing about writing from Finn's first person POV is that my vocabulary is vastly superior to his and I have to limit my big word usage. Let's just say the few I do use here were learned from Kurt or Rachel, considering he's used the words dubious and archetypes after becoming deeply associated with them on the show I think I can get away with it. Also, I know what happened to Rachel here was really awful and gross (it had to be worse than pee balloons and allow for a scene where Finn washes Rachel's hair, which I've been obsessed with writing forever, don't ask me why) but you'll be happy to know that's the last of the big humiliations she'll suffer in this story, I'm sure you knew that something bad was coming, I hope I gave you enough foreshadowing. Also I forgot to thank you for helping me reach my 300 review goal and then some, although that doesn't mean I won't greatly appreciate your reviews for the remaining chapters (I'm guessing this story will go for about six or seven more chapters). Stay tuned folks!.**


	13. Metaphorical Justice

**I'm thinking I should stop telling people when I'm going to update, sometimes shit just happens, but I guess a day late isn't so bad.**

I don't want to wake her up right now. With her sleeping so peacefully it's easy to pretend that everything's okay, but it's pushing five O'clock and she has to go home some time.

"Rachel," I whisper softly, shaking her a little, she stirs a bit, snuggling deeper into my pillows, and a small smile reaches my lips.

"Come on Rach, you gotta wake up," I repeat, shaking her a little more, and her eyes finally flicker open, I don't know why I expect her to look happier, but I guess a pep talk, an orgasm and a long nap wouldn't quite do it after the day she's had.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep," she says groggily, rubbing her eyes.

"It's okay," I say shrugging. "But you gotta get home before your dads start to worry."

"I wish I could stay," she pouts.

"I wish you could stay too," I reply, rubbing her arms up and down. "Listen to me, you're going to be okay tomorrow, we can meet early, I'll go in with you."

I can tell she still feels uneasy about going to school tomorrow but she nods and forces a small smile anyway. I wish she didn't have to force it, that I could do something to make her smile for real, then it hits me.

"What are you doing Saturday?" I say then, and she only frowns more.

"It's me Finn, what do you think, I'll probably be uploading videos of my singing onto Youtube all night."

"Well, Tina's having this party-

"I wasn't invited," she says sadly.

"Guess again," I say with a sly smirk, and finally her expression changes, but instead of sad she now looks confused.

"Wait, she invited me?"

"Yup," I reply, "I thought we could go together, everyone from glee and the play will be there, and none of the popular kids except me I guess. It should be a lot of fun, what do you say?"

She looks thoughtful for a moment, and part of me fears thar she won't even want to come to a glee party after what happened, but her lips turn up after awhile, a smile, a genuine one.

"That sounds nice," she says, and kisses me softly.

* * *

I pace back and forth through the courtyard, I'm still worried that she won't show up today, even though she insisted that she would. It's earlier, even earlier than she usually gets to school, but I couldn't help getting here as soon as I could. And before long I realize that it was a very good thing that I couldn't wait, because there's nobody else here as I see Quinn headed toward the field, probably for one of Coach Sylvester's morning practices, a morning practice that she isn't going to make it to on time, not unless she talks.

"Hey Quinn," I say sharply, and as she looks at me there's a telling look of fear in her eyes. "Let me talk to you."

"I have to go to practice," she says shortly, trying to get away before I can catch her, but she isn't fast enough, and before either of us know it she's backed against the building, caught firmly in my grasp, and I know that there must be murder in my gaze by the horrified look in her eye.

"Finn, please-

"Did you do it?" I seethe, right in her face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she responds, her voice broken.

"You know exactly what the fuck I'm talking about Quinn," I say, narrowing my eyes at her. "Did you do it?"

"Finn you're scaring me," she says, she's trying to seem innocent right now, but I see through it.

"You have the power, you rigged the nominations didn't you?"

"I didn't do anything."

"Don't lie to me!" I shout, making her flinch, I don't hit girls, but I have no problem scaring the shit out of her right now. "Don't even try to look me in the eye right now and lie to me Quinn."

And her face crumples then, but not in fear, it's more like shame. "I didn't plan it okay," she finally admits tearfully. "Dave asked me for my help, I didn't know what he was going to do, I swear."

"You knew it wasn't going to be good," I say, finally letting her go, and I'll beat the shit out of Dave later, but for now it's between me and her.

"I know, I know," she says miserably. "I'm sorry I know what happened to Rachel was awful okay, but come on Finn you must have seen this coming. You can't just pull a total 180 overnight and expect everything to just be fine. You painted a target on Rachel's back the second you decided to make her your girlfriend."

And as much as I hate Quinn right now, I can't deny that she's right.

"Why?" I say then, sadly. "Why couldn't you have just gotten back at me? I'm the one who hurt you not her, she didn't do shit to you Quinn."

"She didn't do anything to you either Finn," Quinn shoots back, making my chest clench. "She didn't deserve you and your friends attacking her in the gym but you did it anyway, and you can't pretend like you're so innocent just because you had an attack of conscience."

I back up a little, rubbing my forehead in frustration, I never would have agreed to do that to Rachel now, but I couldn't deny that I was angry with Quinn for doing exactly what I had been guilty of in the past.

"I know okay," I say, my voice shaky. "I'm not innocent, I've hurt her too, and maybe I never would have done anything that bad, but I have done some damage. But the fact is I can't anymore, it's my job to protect her now and if that means being a big fucking hypocrite then I don't give a shit, you either tell Figgins what you and Dave did or I will. If you come clean you'll probably just get a suspension, you might even still get your damn crown."

"Are you forgetting that I know you're the one who put her in that cast Finn, huh?" and my heart sinks at the comment, but I can't back down now.

"If that's how you want to play it fine, I'd rather go down with you than let you get away with this."

I can tell by her face that she wasn't expecting that, not at all. And I can't quite figure out what she's thinking right now, but she seems suddenly off somehow, different.

"Oh my god," she finally says. "I thought this thing with Rachel was just about your guilt but that's not it is it?"

"What are you talking about?" I reply, confused.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?" she says. "You love her."

I swallow hard as I consider Quinn's words. I can't deny that I care about her, that she makes me happy even when it seems impossible, that being with her makes everything better and that... that I love her, that I love her so much that I can't even get my head around it, and I can't deny it, not to Quinn and definitely not to myself.

"I don't know what to do Quinn," I say, breaking down. And I don't know where the impulse to tell her this is coming from but I have to tell someone. "At first I just felt like I had to do the right thing for once, but now... I, I know her, I know what her heart's like and it's just, it's beautiful. And I do, I love her so much but I hate myself and I haven't told her why because she'll hate me too, and I need her Quinn. But if it means doing right by her I'll risk it, I will, I'll tell Figgins everything-

"Don't," Quinn says, cutting off my rambling. "Don't tell him, I won't."

"Why?" I say, confused.

"What we did to her, it was out of line, it was disgusting, it wasn't even particularly clever," she admits. "I regretted it as soon as it happened, I wanted to get back at you but not like that, and this doesn't make up for it, I know, but I'll tell Figgins what happened, and I'll leave you out of it. Not for you, but for her, I have to do something to make this right."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that maybe she needs you as much as you need her, and if that's the truth then you can't tell her," she explains. "I won't say anything, I promise."

"But you'll turn yourself in, to Figgins?" I ask her.

"I was already going to," she admits. "Dave too, you aren't the only one with a conscience Finn."

"Thank you," I say, my voice softer. "You're right that doesn't make up for it, but it's a start."

"Can I go now?" she says, the sharp edge returning to her voice, and I realize I still have her backed against a wall, and I step aside, letting her pass.

She's sitting at a lunch table when I return, and I can tell she's waiting for me by the nervous look on her face, I sink down next to her and put an arm around her, pulling her closer so I can kiss her hair.

"Hey," I say softly, looking into her big eyes, and I don't understand how Quinn realized it before I did, but looking at her now it's never been more clear, I love her, and it's terrifying and complicated and real. So real that I can't go another second without kissing her, long and hard, sighing against her mouth, my heart pounding, and she returns it, hesitantly at first, but soon her arms find their way around my neck and I pull her into my lap, needing her closer, my lips move across her cheek and her temple and finally land on her shoulder as I hug her tightly to me. I can't say it, I can't say the words I'm thinking right now, but I want her to feel them somehow.

"Finn," she whispers, stroking my hair so gently. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay, I promise."

I can feel her nod a little as she begins to speak. "You scare me so much when you get like this."

"I know," I whisper against her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"I guess what happened to me yesterday made it easy for me to forget how much you're still hurting, but I'm still here for you, I promise."

"It's not that," I say looking at her again, and I touch her face, smooth and warm against my fingers, and I notice her shrink the slightest bit under my intense stare. "I just, I realized something today."

"What did you realize?" she asks, still wary.

"That I can still feel things, things I didn't know I could feel anymore," I explain. "And it's not a bad thing, it's a good thing, a really good thing, it's just also a really scary thing."

"A little fear is good sometimes," she says, playing with my hair a little.

"Yeah, like the kind you get when you're in a roller coaster car and you're climbing slowly to the top, not the kind you get when you're being chased by an axe murderer."

"Exactly, and that's why metaphors are important."

"Yeah," I agree, and she kisses me this time.

* * *

It isn't as bad as she expects, mostly everyone just avoids looking at her. She finds a stack of toilet paper rolls in her locker, most likely courtesy of Dave or Rick the fuckstick, and I catch a couple of morons fanning their noses when she passes, but they don't say anything about it for the most part, not to her face anyway. I think they feel sorry for her, and maybe guilty for laughing, and maybe intimidated by the very clear don't fuck with my girl face I'm sporting, in any case she makes it through the day, and I make it through the day without seeing Dave. Figgins is out today, so I know he's safe from being expelled until tomorrow, to tell the truth I'm happy, I want to get my hands on him first. He's avoiding me, I know it, and he should be.

By the time rehearsal rolls around Rachel looks much happier, she's chatting with Blaine when I come in, and the others are huddled around them, looking on sympathetically.

"And you're sure you're alright?" Blaine says, and by the way Rachel playfully rolls her eyes at him I can tell it's far from the first time he's asked.

"For the last time, yes," Rachel says, and she gives me a warm look as she continues to speak. "I'm not going to let them break me."

"Well if that had happened to me I would never show my face at this school again," Mercedes says.

"Gee, that's comforting," Santana says, rolling her eyes.

"I'm just saying," Mercedes explains. "You've got balls girl." and she gives Rachel a playful punch to the shoulder.

"Well I'd have no business being a star if I couldn't handle a little adversity, today it's humiliation at a high school assembly, in five years it could be nude photos of my leaked online in the midst of my first Oscar Nomination."

"Wait, you have those?" I say a little more excitedly than I meant to.

"It was speaking hypothetically," she explains.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't have a nervous breakdown over this," Santana chimes in. "Even if it means I owe Artie fifty bucks."

"Well it wasn't just my natural resiliency under pressure," Rachel says confidently. "Let's just say I had a lot encouragement," and she reaches out to squeeze my hand, and I squeeze back.

I take a seat in the audience as everyone practices and waits for Mr. Schue, because sometimes I just like to watch them. I had the dream high school experience to anyone looking in, but I can't help but think I still missed out on so much. Most of the kids onstage spend their school days being completely invisible to everyone around, but they're still happier than I ever was being at the top, and I look at Rachel, the other side of the same coin, and I think that maybe there's a second chance here for both of us.

"Hey Finn," I turn my head towards Brittany, smiling so innocently back at me at she takes a seat next to me, and it's still hard for me to believe that she would ever fuck Dave, Rachel is right, she really is a sweet girl, or at least that's what I always thought. She's sweet and innocent and kind of dumb but in a cute way, I've always liked her to be honest, and I kind of hate not being able to anymore.

"Oh, hey Brittany," I say a bit awkwardly.

"Look Finn, I know you're mad at me for some reason but I still really need your help, I've nailed everything but the drumming."

"Really? You've nailed _everything_" I shoot back coldly.

"Finn you know I don't get humor," she says, shaking her head. "Look if you don't want to help me can you at least give me some tips?"

"Here's a tip," I say a bit angrily, "don't bang another drum when you already have a perfectly good one. I'm pretty sure that's a metaphor."

"I don't know what a metaphor is. Besides, I don't have my own drum, that's why they let me use the one at the school," she says, still not getting it. "I have an idea, you can stand behind me and pretend like your arms are my arms, I think I can get Mr. Schue to go for it if I say I'm taking artistic liberty-

"Would you cut the crap Brittany, I know," I finally say.

"You know what?" she says looking at me with a look of confusion on her face.

"I know you cheated on Santana," I say under my breath. "And with Dave Karofsky of all people, I mean if you're going to cheat at least have standards."

"Finn, I would never sleep with Dave, even if I was single, he's like capital 'g' gay."

And now I'm the one who's confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"Santana told me, she has awesome gaydar, but don't tell anyone, it's a secret," Brittany says. "In fact I probably shouldn't have told you. Don't tell Santana I told you."

"Okay guys," Mr. Schue says, walking in before I can process what Brittany said. "Today is our first act run through, I trust everybody's here."

"Nope, our Benny is still out," Tina says. And it's only now I notice that everyone is here except for Sebastian.

"Jesus," Mr. Schue says, rubbing his forehead.

"Mr. Schuester I'd be more than happy to run Sebastian's lines for him until he gets here," Rachel offers.

"I might have to take you up on that if we can't find him," Mr. Schue says.

"I actually saw him go into the bathroom before I came here, he said he be right back but that was like twenty minutes ago," Blaine offers. "I wonder what he's doing in there."

"Probably tending to his boy band hair," Santana says.

"Finn, could you go see if he's still in there?" Mr. Schue asks, and I want to protest, but it's not like I can get too much more out of Brittany right now anyway, so I sigh and get up from my seat.

The halls are empty, practically everyone's gone home, and it's nice to be alone with my thoughts for the one or two minutes it takes to get to the closest bathroom. But the quiet is short lived. I definitely hear Sebastian's voice coming from one of the stalls when I enter, and I wonder if he's talking on the phone, but then I stop short as I hear another voice, a very familiar voice.

"Are you sure no one's going to come in," Dave says, his voice husky, as if he's in the middle of something he absolutely shouldn't be doing in the school bathroom.

"Everyone's gone home stupid, now shut the fuck up and let me finish." Sebastian replies. I turn swiftly on my heel then, not wanting to hear something so personal. Whatever business I have to settle with Dave will have to wait. I stand outside the door, ready to pounce as soon as he comes out. Because this whole thing with Rachel is so much worse than I thought, he wasn't afraid of Rachel getting him in trouble with Santana, he wasn't afraid of her getting him in trouble at all, he knew she would never out him, he just hated her for knowing.

He doesn't make it two paces out of the bathroom before I grab him, slamming him hard against the locker, I'm taller but he's bigger and stronger, and he could probably take me if I weren't so pissed off right now.

"Finn what the hell are you doing?" Sebastian yells as I pin Dave harder.

"Go to rehearsal Sebastian," I fume, then turn my attention back to Dave. "This is what she knew? Huh, this is the big secret you were so afraid she was going to tell?"

"Get off me!" Dave says, struggling, and he gets himself free long enough to hit me, hard in the cheekbone, making me stumble, but I pull myself together quickly enough to punch him solidly in the face, sending him down and sending Sebastian frantically down the hall, maybe to get help, I don't really care.

"What the fuck is your problem Hudson?" Dave yells, grabbing his chin.

"She has two gay dads asshole, she wouldn't have outed you, you know she wouldn't have," I argue. "Although you're not exactly doing the best fucking job of hiding it moron."

"So this about your little bitch, right?" he says, spitting blood as he tries to climb back to his feet, he's just trying to piss me off to get my mind off of what I just overheard in the bathroom, and it works. I kick him in the ribs, hard. Sending him back down.

"What the fuck dude?" he exclaims in pain, coughing and spitting.

"If you wanna fuck guys that's fine, I don't judge," I say, kneeling down beside him. "But don't fuck with my girlfriend." I stand up again and kick him one last time in the ribs. And as he squirms in pain I step over him, heading back to rehearsal.

"Finn, what happened?" Rachel says worriedly as I enter the stage. She clomps up to me and grabs my chin, taking a good look at my face. My cheek is screaming and I know I probably have a pretty wicked bruise already, but I shrug it off.

"It's nothing," I say smiling a little and kissing her on the forehead. "Hey Brittany?" I continue, looking over at the worried looking blonde. "Drum lesson today after rehearsal, my house, don't be late."

**A/N: It sucks when someone leaves a comment that I'd really like to respond to but they don't allow pm's, so I'll respond via author's note instead. To the guest reviewer who noticed the similarities between the mature scenes in this story and Rebel Yell, first of all, thank you, because Minsky writes seriously hot smut and that story is amazing, and secondly, I'm not denying that aside from hers being written from Rachel's POV and mine being written from Finn's the dialogue and description in our scenes do resemble each other, although I like to think the Finn in my story is more obsessive and sexually frustrated as opposed to the sexy beast he's portrayed as in Rebel Yell, and I think overall that we're telling two very different stories in spite of a few similar themes. I respect the hell out of Minsky and I hope that if she's reading she doesn't think I'm trying to plagiarize anything, it's just that writers tend to draw inspiration from other writers whether they're aware of it or not (I wasn't). Anywhoo, now that I've gotten that off my chest, stay tuned folks!**


	14. Parental Units

**Sorry for the longish wait on this. I was pretty (very) blocked on this chapter, seeing as it's the final calm before the storm so to speak, I'm guessing the last four will practically flow out of me.**

The day Figgins returns to school I keep expecting Quinn to back out of her promise to confess what her and Dave did, I keep a close eye on her, but we don't speak and I'm thinking it's better that way, there just isn't anything left to say between me and Quinn, and as much as I respect her agreeing to come forward with what she did, it doesn't change the fact that she did it in the first place.

It's around noon when it's done, I know that it's done because Dave has murder in his eyes as he walks past me in the hall, and the only thing keeping him from giving me a thorough beat down is the fact that he's being escorted out by his dad. As soon as he disappears through the front doors I head to class. It's Chemistry, my one other class with Rachel, and I find her there early like usual, a strange, thoughtful look on her face, and I notice how she flinches a little when I sit next to her.

"Hey, you alright?" I say softly, rubbing her back a little, and she smiles weakly.

"I'm okay, I just got back from the principal's office," she explains. "Quinn told Figgins that she and Dave set up that whole homecoming Queen thing, Figgins officially withdrew me from the running and Quinn got suspended for a week, Dave got two."

"That's it?" I say, offended. And she shrugs. "What about your dads, can't one of them get Figgins to give Dave and Quinn a harsher punishment?"

"My dads don't know about this and I'm not telling them," she explains.

"Look, I know you're embarrassed-

"It has nothing to do with me being embarrassed," she continues, cutting me off. "After the last time the popular kids pulled something like this they told me they were going to pull me out of this school if it happens again, and I don't want that..."

She looks into my eyes then and squeezes my hand. "Not now that things are finally getting better, not now that I have you Finn."

I keep trying to find the right time to tell her, to tell her how much I love her, because every day it seems to get stronger. Now would seem to be as good a time as any, but somehow I still can't seem to bring myself to say it and I don't know why.

"Speaking of my dads," she continues, stopping my thought process in its tracks. "Don't freak out Finn but... I kind of told them about us last night."

At those words my heart begins to race and my palms go sweaty, and I still haven't forgotten the last time I crossed paths with Hiram Berry, the hatred in his voice, hatred that I deserved, she told me not to freak out, but by the way she starts to rub my hand with her thumb, a sort of comforting gesture, I can tell that she knows I'm completely freaking out right now.

"What did they say?" I ask her, my voice shaky and quiet.

"Well they asked me a lot of questions, like how it happened and how long it's been happening and...

"What you were thinking?" I suggest.

"That may have come up," she says carefully.

"Oh god," I exhale sharply, pulling at my hair a little. "This is bad."

"Would you relax? This is going to be fine," she says, rubbing my hand a little more.

"Fine? Your dads hate me Rachel," I respond.

"They don't even know you," she insists, and I realize my mistake.

"Well... They know of me I'm sure," I say, covering my slip up. "And I can't imagine any of it is good."

"Look Finn, my fathers are aware of our history together, but I told them all about how much you've changed, how sweet and wonderful you've been to me, how you've helped me make friends, all of it."

"And?" I go on a bit desperately.

"And they want to meet you, Saturday night before the party they want you over for dinner."

"I'm going to throw up," I say, breathing hard. "That's it, I'm going to throw up."

"Finn would you relax? It's going to be okay."

"What if it's not?" I argue. "What if they don't let you see me anymore?"

"My dads only want to see me happy," she insists. "And in spite of everything we've been through, you make me happy Finn, and all they'll have to do is get to know you to see that."

Just tell her Hudson, tell her you love her, it's time now, I think to myself, but I chicken out again, telling her instead...

"You make me happy too."

Before I can say anything more the bell rings and all I can do is stress out for the rest of the day.

* * *

I obsess for a solid hour over what to wear for this dinner, I wonder if a tie would be too much or if I should go with the blue shirt or the white and basically agonize over which outfit says "sorry for making your daughter's life a living hell for the past two years, may I please continue dating her?" It's times like these that I miss Kurt the most, he always had the best advice. In the end I go with my good jeans, no tie and my dad's old blazer, and I get ready to face the music.

She answers the door for me after I spend a good five minutes on her front stoop, mustering up the courage to knock. She kisses me shyly on the cheek and takes me by the hand, and I don't want to follow her, I want to run for the hills and never face these men for as long as I live, but when I see them standing there, their arms crossed, their faces hard, judgment in their eyes, I know I'm not going anywhere, I'm their prisoner now.

"Dad, daddy..." she starts. "This is Finn Hudson."

I can't take the way they simply stare me down, and I don't know what to expect or what to say, or if I should say anything. Hiram I know, the tall bespectacled one who looks a lot like Rachel, but the man at his side, LeRoy if I remember correctly, I've never seen before. He's a shorter, fair-skinned African American man with curly hair, but somehow he also sort of looks like Rachel, if that's even possible.

"Finn, our daughter has told us many interesting stories about you," the shorter black man says, breaking the uncomfortable silence as Hiram continues to glare at me. "I must say I'm surprised to say the least to see you here, holding her hand."

I drop Rachel's hand in a bit of a panic and clear my throat before finally speaking.

"Look, I don't know exactly what Rachel has said about me or our past together, but I'm sure that it's all true." I say shamefully. "And I know I don't deserve the second chance that she's given me, but I promise you both that I don't intend on wasting it, honest. I care about her too much." I rehearsed the words before I got here, but they come out all frantic and muddled, and I know they aren't the least bit swayed. They continue to stare at me then and I feel about three feet tall in their presence as opposed to my actual six foot three.

"Rachel, honey, can you leave us alone for a moment?" Hiram finally says, the first words he's spoken, and my blood feels like it's gone cold. I look down at Rachel who looks up at me with wide eyes.

"Dad, daddy I'm sure whatever you have to say to him you can say to me," she says, and I can tell that she's trying to sound confident right now but I can hear the slight way her voice is shaking.

"Don't worry honey we just want to talk to him," LeRoy says, his voice softening a little. I look over at her again, hoping that she'll fight them more, but instead she reaches out to squeeze my hand and smiles up at me.

"It'll be okay Finn, I promise," I know they can hear her but the words are meant only for me. I don't want her to go, and I hold onto her hand as long as our arms will stretch.

They wait for her to leave earshot before they begin speaking again and the silence is deafening.

"So Finn," Hiram starts. "What's your angle here?"

I swallow hard, shifting my feet and trying to build the confidence to say something, anything.

"I don't have one," I says simply. "I never expected this to happen but it did and I just, I can't fight the way I feel about her."

"Try," Hiram says coldly.

"Hiram please," LeRoy cuts in. "Finn we can believe that you've turned over a new leaf, our question is why do you feel the need to involve our daughter?"

I can't tell them the truth, the truth is just impossible, but I have to say something.

"Look, I don't expect you to believe that I've changed, because the truth is I haven't, not entirely. In some ways I'm just as pissed off and screwed up as I always was." I don't know why I'm telling them this, why I expect it to help, but once I start talking I can't stop. "I beat the crap out of what used to be my best friend the other day, because he said something bad about Rachel, and I liked it, I liked hitting him and I'd do it again if he even looked at her the wrong way, unless she told me not to. Because I would do anything for her, anything."

"Why, what changed Finn?" Hiram says.

"She got hurt, and I felt bad for her," I tell him, hoping that LeRoy already knows about me being there that night. "And maybe that shouldn't have been the reason I decided to reach out, to put all that other stuff aside and be nicer to her, but it was. And knowing her, falling in love with her, that came after."

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" Hiram says, narrowing his eyes at me confusedly.

"I love your daughter," I repeat. "Very much, very truly."

"Finn you just admitted to us that you have a serious problem with anger and that you like to solve your disputes with violence, not to mention the fact that you used to relentlessly bully our daughter. Do you honestly expect us to be comfortable with you seeing her?" LeRoy adds.

"I'm here to tell the truth, and the truth is I would rather die than do anything to hurt her, ever again."

"Kind of an intense boy," LeRoy says over to his husband in a whisper just loud enough for me to hear.

"She told us," Hiram says after a moment. "She told us that you've been nothing but kind and protective of her since you've been together, and I believe her, but I don't believe for a second that she can't do any better than you."

"That's the thing, I know she can do better Mr. Berry but I want to be better, and I can do that, I just need a chance to prove it to you."

At that Hiram whispers something over to LeRoy, and I can't hear them this time but I can tell by their expressions that it's nothing too terrible.

"Finn," Hiram says after finishing the silent conversation with LeRoy. "Tell us about your brother."

I swallow hard, I should have guessed that Rachel would have said something to them about that, she seemed like she shared pretty much everything with her dads, even me after awhile.

"When he died... I guess..." I trail off, unsure of what to say, but they stand there listening intently. "I guess I had a problem dealing with it, and I still have that problem but I'm trying really hard I swear. And I know that Kurt dying and me being so angry for so long, that's not an excuse for how I treated Rachel but I can't change any of that, no matter how badly I want to, I can only move forward."

"It was two years ago when it happened, right?" Hiram says, and I knit my brow in confusion.

"How did you know?"

"Local papers for the most part, I never really made the connection but then I realized that two years ago was around the time when our Rachel stopped talking about you like you hung the moon," Hiram explains, and I bite my lip and nod.

"Listen son, we're sorry that you've been through so much," LeRoy says, sympathetically. "That being said we can't in good conscience allow Rachel to continue seeing you."

I knew it, I knew this was coming, but somehow I still can't process what's happening, they can't really be saying what I think they're saying, but why wouldn't they? Any good father would do the same thing, I understand, I really do but that doesn't stop me form freaking out anyway.

"But, n-no, you can't," I protest, and I know that my eyes are starting to mist over.

"Finn-

"I love Rachel okay you have to believe that."

"We do believe you son but-

"Then why? Why can't we just be together, we make each other happy," I say cutting LeRoy off. "And I need her, I need to be with her."

"We're just worried that whatever issues you might still have would make it impossible for you to have a healthy relationship with anyone right now." Hiram says.

I can't deny that either, even I have to admit that the way I feel about Rachel isn't exactly healthy. And there's nothing I can really say.

"Dads please," I flinch a little at the sound of her voice, she was listening, I'm not sure for how long, whether she heard me say that I loved her, I wish she didn't have to hear it that way if she did, I wanted to tell her myself, I wanted it to be perfect, but that's not what's important right now.

"Honey we told you-

"You can't do this," she says cutting Hiram off. "Look I know Finn has problems okay, but that's not his fault, and he's trying really hard to be better for me, doesn't that mean something to you?"

"Of course but Rachel-

"He watched his brother, his best friend, die," she continues, cutting off LeRoy. "And he watched his whole family fall apart, you can't just expect him to be perfectly okay after that, but he wants to be okay again dad and I want to help him."

"You can help someone without being romantically involved with them Rachel, if you want to reach out to Finn that's fine, but you have to face the fact that this boy isn't good for you." Hiram argues.

"He is good for me daddy," she pleads, squeezing my hand. "He loves me, and I love him too."

"You do?" I say, looking at her in shock, and I finally realize that the reason I was so hesitant to tell her that I loved her was because I was so afraid she didn't feel the same way. But now that I know she does there's no way I can let her go now.

"I do," she says, looking back up at me. And I once again can't control the tears that so easily pour out of me when I'm with her and she's doing that thing she does. "I love you Finn."

"I love you so much too," I confess once again, breaking down again, and she reaches up to wipe away my tears with her thumbs, and without a thought in my head I pull her closer, capturing her lips in mine, and as I kiss her deeply and passionately I completely forget that her parents are right the fuck there and pretty much just told me that I wasn't allowed to see their daughter anymore, until Hiram clears his throat loudly and I break apart from her, still staring intensely into her eyes.

"I'm sorry I just..." I can't complete my thought as I turn to face them again, noticing something different in their faces now, it looks like concern.

"Look I'll do anything, I'll get counseling or whatever," I plead. "And we can take it slow, as slow as you want, just please give me a chance."

"Please dads," she continues, still holding me so tight. "I know you don't trust Finn but please trust me."

"We do trust you sweetheart, and we want to see you happy," Hiram says.

"And it appears as if he truly does care for you," LeRoy adds.

"I do," I insist.

"Maybe we can have that dinner after all, get to know him a little better?" LeRoy continues.

He looks at his husband then for some sort of approval, and finally Hiram nods once. And me and Rachel trade small smiles.

It's weird to even consider it, but by the end of the dinner I think they actually sort of like me, well maybe not like in the traditional sense, but they seem as if they may have liked me had the last couple of years gone very differently. At the very least they let Rachel go to the party with me, if not without a very long lecture and a "hurt her and I'll kill you" look on our way out. The truth is I think they like the way she seems to have come out of her shell in the past couple of weeks, and they don't want to deny her actual fun with actual friends just because they have a few concerns.

They never really agreed to let her see me, not in words anyway, but there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between us, as long as I lived up to my promise to work on myself and take care of Rachel, and take it much slower than we have been, maybe somewhere down the line they would be able to wrap their minds around the idea of us seeing each other. And part of me thinks they know she'd try to go behind their backs if they said no, seeing how passionately we feel about each other, and they figure it's better that they can keep a watchful eye on us, it doesn't matter as long as I can be with her.

It's a surprisingly good turn out for a glee kid's party, most of the kids I don't even know, but I convince Mike Chang to come, and he brings Sam along, and Brittany apparently convinced Santana to make an appearance, so I'm not completely out of my element. And I'm surprised by how well Rachel seems to fit in now, it only takes about half an hour for her to get over the discomfort of being at her first party before she finds her groove with everyone. She's moved past only being friendly with Blaine, the other kids talk to her too, and not in an awkward just trying to be nice kind of way. They're still a bit thrown for a loop by her crazy, but it's not in a bad way anymore, and apparently Tina and Rachel share a mutual affection for plaid kilts and Pat Benatar, and their duet rendition of "Love is a Battlefield" brings down the house. I don't even feel bad about leaving her alone so I can talk to Sam, and by the second hour her cast has about ten new signatures on it. But no matter how well the party goes for both of us, we find ourselves wanting to get away from everyone else after awhile.

"Do you think this counts as taking it slow?" Rachel says, gasping for air after several straight minutes of making out on the Cohen-Changs bed. I know for a fact it isn't taking it slow, not considering where my hands are right now.

"We can start taking it slow tomorrow," I say shrugging, and I kiss harder, tasting her mouth with my tongue, she tastes like the pink drink she was sipping earlier. "Or next week, whenever." I can tell she still wants to talk, so instead of attacking her lips again I kiss down her cleavage, unbuttoning her striped cardigan.

"I don't know about that Finn, I mean, the play is next week."

"Oh yeah?" I continue between kisses to her exposed skin. "What happens then?"

"Well I always said that when I made love for the first time I wanted it to be special, and I was thinking you know, what could be more special than opening night of our last show at McKinley?"

I stop what I'm doing immediately, needing to look her in the eyes, to make sure I heard her correctly.

"Are you sure?" I say, my voice coming out strained.

"I meant what I said Finn, I love you. I just had to be sure that you felt the same, and you proved that to me today."

I run my knuckles up and down her cheek and kiss her softly on the bridge of the nose. "Do you know how good it feels to hear you say that?" I say softly my lips still nearly touching her face. And I catch myself and I sit up a little. "I mean that you love me, not that you want to have sex with me... I mean, that's good to hear too, just not as good as hearing that you love me, because you know I love you... and I'd love to do that with you opening night... because I love you not just because you're hot, although that's very true as well... and I'll shut up now."

"Okay, good," she giggles and she kisses me one last time before we have to go back downstairs.

**Stay tuned folks!**


	15. Opening Night

**Sorry about the delay, I just got promoted from a prep cook to a baker, which doesn't necessarily mean more hours but it does mean very different ones (also more money, so yay!). My sleep schedule is all screwed up and I'm just now getting used to it, in short it just took a while to get back into the swing of things. Anywhoo, I hope this chapter was worth the wait.**

She's ready, she told me herself, her voice free of doubt, and I'm excited and scared shitless at the same time, and I don't even know what I'm scared of but I am. I used to picture fucking Rachel all the time, imagine how good it would feel to just go crazy on her, to let out all of the frustration I felt when I looked at her, take it out on her pussy until I could breathe again. But it's different now, maybe it always was in a way. Even before I loved her my messed up fantasies weren't always about fucking her hard against a wall, or pulling her hair while I took her from behind, or all that other depraved guy shit, they were about touching, and kissing and holding her in my arms as I moved in and out so tenderly, and I never understood why until now. I want her in ways I never have before and I don't know if I'll be able to sleep until I have her completely. God knows I've barely gotten a wink since the party, and yet as I stand here in front of the mirror I feel energetic, like nothing can stop me. I've worn this costume so many times now, but tonight it feels so different, it feels real. It's the final dress rehearsal before opening night and I can't help smiling in the mirror a little as I put on my leather Jacket, the finishing touch.

"How do I look?" I say as she comes in behind me, not turning to face her.

"Very handsome," she says, wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing her face against my back. "You're going to be brilliant."

"Thanks to you," I say, turning to face her. "I never would have been able to do this without you."

"I didn't really do anything," she says, shrugging, and my own smile drops when I finally notice the utterly sad look on her face.

"Hey, look at me," I say, tilting her chin up so she can look at me. "You did everything."

"It wasn't enough though was it?" she says. "I really thought that…" she trails off then, and I can tell she's trying so hard not to cry. And I so wish I knew what to say, but there's nothing I can say.

"Well, the cast comes off the day after tomorrow, just in time to be too late," she says sadly. "But I guess I did have a fairly brilliant career on the McKinley stage didn't I?"

I wouldn't know, I think silently to myself, I've never seen one of her plays.

"You are brilliant," I remind her. "You're amazing, and it's not over for you, it's just beginning, when you're winning your first big award this is all just going to feel like some distant memory."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she says, shrugging, and I just want her to smile, but all she can manage is a weak sort of half grin. "Still, it would have been nice to go out with a bang."

I pull her close to me then, kissing her lightly on the forehead, and I wish that were enough, but it's just not. Nothing I say or do can ever be enough, not really, and that becomes clear when I hear her sniffling a little.

"Please don't cry Rachel," I say softly, rubbing her back and kissing her hair, I felt great a moment ago, now in an instant I feel like total shit. I wish there was something I could do to get her on that stage, anything, but I can't turn back time, I can't erase what I did to her, I just have to remember what she went through to get this play to McKinley, how much it means to her just to see it happen even if she can't be in it. It's the reason I'm here.

"I'm sorry," she says, wiping at her tears. "This is your moment and I'm ruining it."

"You're not ruining anything Rachel," I assure her. "I just hate seeing you so sad."

"I'm not, I know it doesn't seem like it but I'm happy, I'm so happy for you," her warm smile seems genuine, but there are still tears in her eyes. I kiss her softly, tasting the salty tears on her lips, and she kisses me back and everything is okay again for one sweet moment.

"Finn, we need you onstage," Mr. Schue says, poking his head into the dressing room before I can deepen the kiss too much, and Rachel takes my hand in hers, squeezing it encouragingly before she retreats to the audience and I take the stage.

* * *

She doesn't say much on the ride back to her dads, nothing beyond telling me how amazing I was and how proud of me she is and that the show is going to be the best ever and that Tina really will make a fantastic Maureen. She says all of the right things but her face still says that she's fucking miserable. And I know this is wrong and I hate myself even more for thinking it, but I can't help but wonder if she'll even be in the mood tomorrow, I push the thought away from my mind, it's no time for me to be thinking like a guy right now.

We kiss once more as I drop her off at her dads and I ask her again if she's alright, and she swears to me that she is, I still don't quite believe her but I know she doesn't want to talk about it so I don't push the issue, I simply wave her goodbye and turn toward home.

My mom's car is in the driveway when I get home, it's seven, so I expected as much. She's probably knocked out in her usual space, waiting for me to shake my head in disappointment at the sight of her and cover her with a blanket like always, but when I enter the house I have to do a double take. She's awake, and sitting at the counter, and her eyes are puffy and there's a box of Kleenex on the counter, and I see why when I get a good look at what's in front of her. I wonder to myself how long it's been since she's looked at it, probably not since before Burt left. It's no wonder she'd be reduced to tears going through the photo album again, reminding herself of a time not so long when we were happy.

It takes me a moment to start toward her, slowly and hesitantly, part of me is afraid that she might shoot up from her chair and disappear into her room before I can get a chance to talk to her, but she doesn't move as I sit down next to her. She has it turned to her wedding pictures, and there's a photo of the four of us in the middle, me and Kurt between Burt and mom, my arm around his shoulders. It was the day we officially became a family, but we looked like we had been all our lives.

"I love that picture," I say quietly.

"I don't even know what possessed me to look at this," she says, closing it. "It doesn't do anything but remind me that they're gone."

"Mom," I say softly, putting my hand over hers. "Kurt may be gone, but I'm still here. I'm here mom and I should have been from the very beginning, I should have been there for you."

She looks at me with wide eyes, as if she doesn't quite understand what I'm saying.

"Oh honey," She finally says. "You've always been there for me, whether you know it or not. And you were right… about me, about everything."

"What do you mean?" I say, knitting my brow. Surely she doesn't mean my pathetic attempt at an intervention a few days back.

"I've just been letting myself fall apart for so long I didn't know how to pull myself back together, and I knew deep down that you were suffering so much because of it, because of me, but I couldn't take care of you anymore, that's my job, to take care of you and I couldn't do it anymore and I'm so sorry Finn."

"Shh, Mom, it's okay," I say, leaning in to wrap my arms around her in a hug, still confused. I don't believe that this is happening, that she's finally opening up after so long. I wasn't expecting this, at all, but there's no way I'm letting another chance to bring her out of the dark slip by me.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about that day," she says, still crying. "Just imagining how hard it must have been for you to see me that way, I feel so ashamed."

"Mom, listen to me," I say, I break away from her, but my hands are still on her shoulders. "I know you're sad okay, but you're not the only one who fell apart, I did too, but you can get through this, we both can."

"I don't even know where to start," she says miserably, shaking her head.

"You can come to my play tomorrow," I suggest carefully. "See what I've been up to the past month, then maybe after we can go to Breadstix, the way we used to, just to talk."

"You're in a play?" she says, wiping her eyes. "How come you didn't tell me?"

I simply shrug a little, the truth is I haven't thought about it much. "I guess, I don't know, I guess I just felt guilty. You know it should have been Kurt up on that stage, it was always his thing not mine. Just the thought of doing this without him, going to New York without him, it always felt wrong to me. But I was their only hope. The play would have been canceled if I wouldn't have stepped up, so I did, and all I can do is hope that Kurt wouldn't be pissed at me for going after _his_ dreams if he knew I was doing this for them."

"Oh Finn," she says, hugging me close. "Kurt wouldn't be anything but proud of you."

"You think so?" I say, my voice a bit choked.

"I know he would. Kurt always believed in you," she insists.

"So you'll go?" I ask her hopefully, my eyes wide.

"Of course sweetheart," she says. "I know it won't make up for anything but I want to support you. I'll be there."

"And you can meet Rachel," I say then, only now realizing just how little I've actually shared with my mother lately, I'm not even sure if she knows I broke up with Quinn, although I'm sure she suspected as much.

"Is she someone special?' Mom says, raising her eyebrows playfully, it's an expression I haven't seen on her in ages. If I didn't know any better I would think she looked somewhat happy.

"She's someone very special," I reply. "You'll love her, I know you will."

"I'm sure I'll like her better than Quinn, don't get me wrong Quinn is a fine young woman, but for you? I could never really see it."

I chuckle a little at her comment. "I missed that, you saying mom stuff," I admit. "Do you think you can tell me I need a haircut?" I continue jokingly.

"Well, that wouldn't be out of line," she says combing my hair a little with her fingers. "Your sideburns do look a little on the bushy side mister."

I smile a little, thinking to myself that she may not be back, not completely, but for the first time in so long I feel like there's hope for her, for us.

* * *

I keep peeking around the curtain, silently worrying that she won't show. We had a nice talk last night, about Kurt, about everything, and we talked about maybe both of us going to counseling, we never did before, even when the hospital offered to set us up with someone, we just never went, but we agreed that after everything we were finally ready. But still, our relationship is fragile and so is she. There are still things that could go wrong in this situation, she could drink too much and fall asleep, or crash her car on the way, she could just lose her nerve altogether and make up some excuse. I try to remain optimistic. She'll come, she has to, she can't just promise that things will be better and then not show up. I can at least take comfort in the fact that Rachel is already here, in the third row of the audience while I know she wants nothing more than to be on that stage. The pangs of guilt rear their ugly head again. I know that it wasn't completely pointless for me to take this part, this play means a lot to her, even if she can't be the star, but I can't help but think if the play never would have come to pass then at least she wouldn't have to feel so left out.

"Nervous?" I jump a little at the sound of Blaine's voice and I turn to face him, he's already decked out in his costume and glasses, and he doesn't look nervous at all. I guess he wouldn't, it's not like he hasn't done this before.

"A little," I admit. "I mean, I know there's always tomorrow night if I mess up, but still…"

"You won't mess up," Blaine assures me. "You got this Finn. Seriously, I never would have thought that you had it in you."

"Neither did I," I admit.

"Alright, places everyone!" Mr. Schue whispers loudly, and I look behind the curtain one last time, a smile reaching my Lips as my mother finally shuffles toward her seat.

"Knock 'em dead Finn," Blaine whispers, and I take a deep breath, ready to take the stage.

Performing the play feels like a complete out of body experience. I know I'm saying the right words and singing the right words and saying and singing them the right way, and I know that I can hear the healthy applause at the end of every song, and I know that I can feel Santana's lips press against mine all of the times that we kiss, yet it all happens so fast that I can't process any of it until we take a stand for our curtain call, and I realize that I just starred in a musical, and judging from the applause and the pats on the back and the congratulations I was really, really good, and I finally allow myself to take it in, to smile and celebrate on the inside. And as Rachel makes her way toward me backstage all I want to do is kiss her like my very life depends on it, so I do, before she can even congratulate me I kiss her, I kiss her endlessly, I kiss her like there's nobody else on the planet let alone in the room, and I don't come up for air until she makes me.

"Finn, oh my god," she beams, breaking the kiss, there are tears in her eyes, but they're happy ones and I feel a bit relieved. "That was amazing that was so great! How do you feel?"

"It's so hard to even explain it," I gush. "It feels like scoring the winning touchdown only somehow it's so much better."

"It's the best feeling in the whole world isn't it?" She replies.

"Second best," I answer. "This is first." And I kiss her again, hearing her laugh a little before my lips touch hers.

"Finn, Honey?" I part from Rachel frantically as I hear my mom's voice, and I look at her with a smile, she looks so proud, and I think it's how I want her to always look at me from now on. "How could you not tell me that this is what you've been up to all month? I mean my goodness, there are no words."

"Mom, I want you to meet Rachel," I say, nodding toward her, and they shake hands and exchange warm smiles. "It's lovely to meet you Mrs. Hummel, Finn has told me so much about you."

"It's lovely to meet you too honey," Mom replies sweetly. "Look at how tiny she is. Oh Finn, she's adorable."

I think they like each other already and tonight is officially a great night, and when I think about what's still to come I can barely contain how amazing I feel.

I go to Breadstix with mom like I planned, and we talk, mostly about the play, not too much about Burt or Kurt, we covered most of that last night. Tonight feels more like moving forward than looking back, we've both needed to move forward for a long time now. I arrange to meet Rachel at the cast party afterwards. Blaine's house has a lot of extra rooms, which I couldn't be more grateful for.

We go our separate ways at around ten and we hug, and I tell her I'll be home late. I'm eighteen so she can't protest too much but I can tell she wants to, and for some reason that makes me smile a little on the inside. Maybe I won't be home _too_ late.

Rachel texts me that she's already waiting upstairs by the time I arrive at Blaine's party, I give my necessary greetings and once again compliment everyone on the fantastic job they did, because they really were fantastic, no exceptions, but as much as I would love to stay downstairs and chat, Rachel is waiting, and I've been waiting for Rachel for what seems like an eternity. Just thinking about it I don't understand why I'm not already hard, but I know it will hit me like a ton of bricks the second I open that door to find her there, lying on the bed. I wonder if she'll already be naked when I come in or if she'll let me take all of her clothes off myself. I knock first, softly, just to make sure it's the right room. I call her name softly and at the sound of her voice telling me to come in I take one final deep breath before entering the room.

She's still fully clothed in her pink dress, sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed, a strand of her thick, loose curls twirled around one finger, one thin strap of her dress slipped past her shoulder, and Jesus fucking Christ is she beautiful, and I'm surprised that she doesn't look nervous at all, she looks willing and ready, like she trusts me and loves me completely , and that's a good thing, right? I have no idea what to say to her right now, I know I should be saying something but the words won't come.

"It's about time Finn Hudson," she purrs. "I have to say that performance got me all hot and bothered, it's not very nice of you to keep me waiting."

"I'm sorry," I say lamely, my voice hoarse. I'm not sure what's wrong with me all of a sudden, why I feel like I can't move or speak, even as she gestures for me to come closer with her index finger it takes several moments of looking down and shifting my feet before I can finally begin to inch toward her. Once I get close enough, before I can make the next move she impatiently pulls me toward her, pressing her lips to mine, kissing me hard and deep caressing my tongue with hers, and hesitantly I place my hands in her hair and try to kiss back. I don't know what's happening, I've been waiting for this for so long and now it's finally happening but I feel stuck somehow.

"Rach, wait," I say, breaking the kiss. "Can you just wait a second?"

"What's wrong Finn?" she says as I take a seat on the bed next to her.

"Nothing, nothing's wrong," I say shaking my head. "I just want to make absolute sure that you're ready for this, I mean I know that you wanted tonight to be special."

"Tonight _is_ special," she insists before closing the distance between us once again, and her lips travel down from my own lips and she starts to kiss my neck, she already knows that doing that never fails to get me going, or at least it usually does.

"It's special for _me_," I say.

And it hits me then. Everything nice I've done for Rachel in the past month, every good thing that I've done has only been for my own benefit, to make myself feel better about what I did. I got to be the star, I got the girl, I pulled my whole life back together, I'm even getting my mom back, and it was all supposed to be for her, to make it up to her, but she never got her moment, she didn't get her chance to be on that stage, and I know she's trying to convince me that she's okay, but I have to ask anyway. Before I can do this I have to make sure.

"It's special for me too Finn," She insists. "So what if I didn't get to be in the play, you were right, none of that is going to matter when I'm famous one day," she continues her assault on my neck and I still don't understand why I can't feel anything but her lips against me. It's never been this way before. I always feel so much when I'm with Rachel, but now all I feel is distracted, and anxious, like everything is wrong.

"Yeah, but it matters now," I say, stopping her in her tracks. "I saw how much it matters to you."

"Do I wish I could have been Maureen? Of course," she admits. "But this has still been one of the best experiences of my life, you know why?"

"Why?" I say, my voice rusty.

"Because it brought me to you," she says like it's the simplest thing in the world, and everything, all of the feelings of pride and optimism and happiness I've been feeling all day crumble in an instant and tears reach my eyes.

"Finn are you okay?' She says worriedly.

"I don't… I don't know," I say, shaking my head. "I don't think so."

"Why? Tell me what happened."

"You love me right?" I say miserably, losing control of the words that are coming out of my mouth.

"Yes, very much," she insists.

"Why?" I ask then. "Why do you love me?"

"Because…" She starts, looking for the right words. "Because you're _you_, you're this kind, strong wonderful, surprisingly adorable person who just needed to find his way, and you did Finn and I'm so proud of you."

"But I don't deserve it," I admit snappishly, the words spilling out of me like my hot tears. "I don't deserve you being proud of me and I don't deserve your love, but I took it anyway because I needed it so much, and I still need it but I can't accept it anymore, not like this."

"Finn you're scaring me, what are you saying?" she says, rubbing my back, trying uselessly to calm me down.

"You were going to fuck me tonight," I say frantically, paying no mind to the confused look on her face. "You were going to give yourself to me because you trust me, but I didn't earn your trust, I stole it."

"Finn please stop," she says cupping my face in her hands, making me look at her. "Listen to me, you can't keep punishing yourself for who you used to be."

"You don't get it Rachel," I say, raising my voice as I shoot up from the bed. "Don't you ever wonder what made me change all of a sudden? What set off this whole thing?"

"I wondered," she admits. "But I didn't ask, because I guess… I just didn't want to push you away."

I start to pace a little in a silent panic, I don't know how everything changed so drastically in the last few minutes, but that look on her face, that look of trust that I never deserved, it affected me in a way I can't explain and now I'm practically erupting in front of her and I can't stop it.

"I hurt you," I finally say. "I hurt you Rachel, and I didn't mean to, I didn't, I never meant for you to get hurt like that."

"Finn what are you talking about?" She says, standing up to get closer to me, her face is so worried and I don't blame her.

"I'm sorry," I say, touching her hair as if it's the last time I'll ever get to touch her, because I think it may very well be. "I'm so sorry baby, I hurt you and I lied to you and I'm sorry."

"Would you just try to make a little bit more sense Finn? Because I'm not following."

I take a deep breath, needing to get this out, needing to tell her. "I'm the reason you didn't get to be Maureen. I'm the reason you fell in the gym."

Her face turns hard then, and my hand falls away from her head and I continue to speak.

"You saw Dave with Sebastian, and he was so pissed off, he wanted to get back at you, to make you pay just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, so he asked for my help…"

I tell her everything, about the masks and the knife and the phonecall and about being with her in the hospital and being so overcome with guilt that I had to make it up to her somehow, and she remains silent and stonefaced the entire time.

"It was all my fault," I continue. "I should have told you but I couldn't, at first I was just afraid of what would happen to me if I told but after a while I just couldn't bring myself to tell you because I was so afraid that you would hate me, and I love you so fucking much that I can't bear the thought of you hating me, but I have to because I can't lie to you anymore, I just can't. And I'm so sorry, and I lied to you about so much but I wasn't lying when I told you that I loved you. If you only believe one thing that I tell you for the rest of my life please believe that."

I dissolve completely then, not able to form anymore words, but I know that I've said enough as she turns away and leaves without another word.

**So the cat's finally out of the bag, will they be able to get past this? Stay Tuned Folks!**


	16. She Fucking Hates Me

**One thing about updating two stories in one day, I got this one mixed up with the other story more than once. I forgot about the first person perspective at the beginning and I asked myself if something I mentioned here would have existed in the 1950's before I remembered that this one is set in the present day. Luckily I caught myself. Anyway, enjoy the update!**

I don't expect her to answer when I call, but I call anyway, over and over again. I know it's pathetic but I just have to hear her voice, even her cheerful outgoing message makes me feel a little less hopeless. I still can't believe that I told her, knowing that I would lose her if I did. I haven't done the right thing in two years, I don't know why I decided to start now… actually I do. I love her. I love her too much to have kept lying to her about this. Still, I can't take not talking to her. She didn't even come to our second show.

If Kurt were alive he'd know what to do, what to say, granted if Kurt were alive I'm sure none of this would have happened in the first place. Still, if I can't talk to Rachel I have to talk to him. I feel strange about going to his grave after all this time, I haven't been since we put him in the ground, every time I thought about going I just couldn't bring myself to, just the thought of him being there, right under my feet, it made me feel sick. I think I'm ready now though, I think I have to be.

The drive there seems almost endless, even though it's only twenty minutes away, and as I exit my car and go looking for the spot where my brother was buried two years ago a sense of dread washes over me. I never did like these places, even when I was a kid and was supposed to think they were cool, I just thought they were sad. I find the stone easily, as if somehow I never forgot, and a lump forms in my throat as I read the headstone.

_Kurtis Elizabeth Hummel_

_Beloved Son and Brother_

_1994-2010_

_Taken Too Soon, Loved Always_

"Hey Kurt," I start hesitantly, not knowing exactly what to say, but knowing that I should say something. "How is it up there? Did you find your mom? Is it just party party party 24/7 with Abe Lincoln and the guy from Roadhouse?"

I breath deep trying not to cry, trying to keep going.

"I miss you man, every day. Things here are… well, to be honest they suck without you bro, _I_ suck without you. I'm angry all the time, I hate nearly everyone and everything, and I managed to ruin the one good thing left in my life, the one beacon of light guiding me through the darkness. You remember Rachel Berry right? Short, dark hair, wears a lot of sweaters? Sings like a fucking angel? Well she's my girlfriend… or _was_ my girlfriend. I screwed it up, I screwed everything up because you weren't here, and god dammit Kurt why aren't you here? Why did you have to leave? You were my best friend, did you know that? Did you have any idea how much you meant to me? If you had known would you have stayed home that day?" I'm almost yelling and my eyes burn with hot tears as I talk to him, and I know I need to calm down, so I wipe my eyes and pull myself together a little. "Anyway, I don't blame you, I was mad at you for so long but I realize now that it was me that I was really mad at, for not doing more to keep you here. I think maybe Burt blames me too, maybe that's why he couldn't stay, you know. I mean, after having you as a son I was probably a pretty poor substitute."

"Is that what you think?"

I nearly have a heart attack as I hear him behind me, and I turn to face him, sure that it's just my mind playing tricks on me, but there he is, plain as day.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you son," Burt says.

"It's okay," I say silently. "I guess you come here a lot huh?"

He nods, and I feel even worse, surely he knows that I've never come to see Kurt.

"You didn't really mean what you just said did you?" Burt repeats, and I turn away from him, looking back down at Kurt's headstone.

"Look, I don't blame you okay," I assure Burt, still not looking at him. "We were never your real family."

"That's not true," Burt says desperately.

"Then why did you leave?" I snap. "Mom needed you, _I_ needed you."

"Don't you think I wanted to stay?" Burt replies. "I couldn't, after my kid died something inside of me went right with him, I was a broken man Finn, and you and your mom both deserved better than that."

"You think we weren't broken too?" I shoot back. "What were we just supposed to be all hunky dory after he died because he wasn't related by blood? It didn't work that way."

"I just thought that if I wasn't there it would be easier for you to move on, because I couldn't, I tried, I tried to be strong for you guys and I couldn't," he says, breaking down, and all of a sudden I can't be mad at Burt anymore, all I feel is sad for the man, he looks so defeated, so hopeless and he may not want to admit it to himself, but he needs us, and I can't believe what I'm about to do right now, but as I open my mouth to speak I can't stop the words.

"We don't need you to be strong, just be there," I say, my voice softening. "Please, come home Burt."

"Your mother would never take me back," he says, wilting.

"She would, in a heartbeat," I assure him. "She's not mad at you, she just misses you, we both do. And I think you miss us too."

I'm a little taken aback when he lurches forward, throwing his arms around me in a tight hug as he cries, but I don't resist it, I hug him back. I'm thinking all I ever needed was to talk to him, to tell him everything that I was feeling. I expected him to fight me more, but maybe he was as sick of fighting as I was.

He follows me home in his car and when we enter the house mom looks like she's seen a ghost.

"Hey Carole," Burt says sheepishly. "You look good."

She looks between me and Burt, eyes wide, clearly not sure whether to yell at me or him, and maybe I jumped the gun in telling Burt she wasn't mad at him, but I may not have gotten him to come otherwise.

"'You look good?' That's all you have to say?" Mom replies. "It's been months Burt."

"I know," he says miserably. "I know I have no right being here after all this time."

"You're damn right you don't," she snaps. "Finn did you do this?"

"Mom, please just hear him out," I say, hoping to god she doesn't end up pushing him away, she was finally getting better, but she still needed Burt, they still needed each other.

"Carole I am so sorry," he says tearfully. "I was a schmuck, I'll admit that, but I love you, and I love Finn and I want to come home, if there's still a home left for me here."

She's trying to keep her face hard, emotionless, but it isn't working I know my mom, and I know when she's about to give in.

"I don't have time for this," she says. "I need to fix dinner for me and _my_ son, if you want to stay for dinner then so be it, but don't expect anything else out of me tonight," at that she turns on her heel and heads for the kitchen and me and Burt exchange small smiles, she's not welcoming him with open arms, but it's something.

Burt falls asleep on the couch right after dinner, and when I leave I wonder to myself if she's going to wake him and send him home, but when I get back from the play he's still there, a blanket thrown over him that wasn't there when I left. Rachel still wasn't there tonight, and I'm not sure why even a small part of me expected her to be. But somewhere in the middle of _Seasons of Love_ I came up with a plan, but I need to talk to Tina. It's still early when I get home, and although I couldn't get a word in after curtain, I think Tina may be free to talk now, I call her on her phone, a little anxious when she finally picks up.

"Hey Tina I need a favor."

* * *

She said she would think about it, it's closing night, according to Rachel closing night usually has the second highest attendance, so if this works out I can't imagine she'll be able to resist showing up, even if it means seeing me. I just have to hope against hope that she loves performing even more than she hates me right now. When Mr. Schue joins the cast backstage I can tell that something is troubling him, and I hope it's what I think it is.

"Bad news everyone," he sighs. "Tina called, she's sick, she can't go on tonight."

I try not to smile but I can't help it, I'll make sure to send Tina flowers for this.

"Are you kidding me, we need her," Mercedes complains. "This is the only night my cousins could fly in."

"I'm sorry guys but without a Maureen we can't go on, curtain's in 45 we don't have a choice."

"Yes we do," I say then. "We can call Rachel."

"Oh my god, yes," Blaine agrees. "She was bummed about not getting to play Maureen, she'll be here before we can even dial."

"I don't know guys," Mr. Schue says. "She just got her cast off, I don't want to be held responsible for anything happening to her."

"So she'll dance with a bit of a limp, she'll probably still be better than Finn," Santana argues.

"How do we even know she'll show up? She hasn't been to a show since opening night, I know because she hasn't called me with extensive notes on how I can improve my performance," Artie adds.

"Don't you think it's worth a shot if it means getting to do our last show," Mercedes says. "I say we should call her."

"I second that," Blaine says.

"Me too," Santana agrees.

"Why not?" Artie says, shrugging. "She knows all the words and dance moves."

"Do you have a better plan?" I add, and as Mr. Schue rubs his forehead in frustration I know that I've won this one, or at least I will have if Rachel shows up.

"Fine, I'll call her," Mr. Schue agrees.

I wonder if she knows, I can't tell immediately by her face when she shows up half an hour after Mr. Schue calls her. I think they all expected her to show up earlier, everyone but me, because I know she had to think about this. She's calm and professional as she agrees to save the day, and she doesn't even look at me, I know convincing Tina to drop out at the last minute wasn't completely selfless, that I knew it would force Rachel to be in the same room as me, and just seeing her face makes my heart swell.

We take our positions behind the curtain, and as I stand beside Rachel I feel like I should say something, even though I know she'll just ignore me, as I look at her I can just barely make out her face in the dim light. Her expression is cold and hard, I feel chilly just looking at her, still I open my mouth to speak.

"I'm really happy you're here," I whisper, not surprised when she says nothing back. "You're going to be great, and you look beautiful."

Still nothing, and as the curtain goes up, I have to suck it up and get through this. I'm here for her now.

She was brilliant, beyond brilliant, slight limp and all, she brought the house down. And I want to tell her how amazing she was but she doesn't stay, not even to soak up the praise, and I have to wonder if being Maureen even mattered to her all that much at that point, god knows she didn't look happy. It was just business for her, they needed her and she came through for them, nothing more. Her dads weren't even there, she must not have even told them, and I understand why she wasn't happy, I broke her damn heart, and being in some play wasn't going to fix that, I was a fool to think on any level that it would. I want to go after her, but I know that she doesn't want to see me. That's it, that's all there is too it. I've lost her.

* * *

I decide to stay home the next day, wallowing in the mess I've made with Rachel. I tell mom I'm sick. I think she knows I'm not sick, but she tells me it's alright if I want to stay home. Maybe she can tell that my heart is in pieces and I can't deal with going anywhere today, maybe she hopes that if I'm there Burt won't leave again, either way I'm grateful to her. I'm not sure where she and Burt stand with each other, but he's still here, so that's a good thing. Mom goes to work early and Burt watches TV downstairs, since selling the shop he has nothing but time on his hands and I hope he chooses to spend that time making things right with us. I think he will. I'll maybe take him to a movie later, but for now I simply sulk, missing her like crazy but not being able to do a damn thing about it. I still can't believe I screwed this up. I fall asleep at around noon because when I'm sleeping it's the only time I'm not hurting over her, but my nap is short lived. I'm not fully woken up by the light knocking on my door but I'm awake enough to talk.

"It's open Burt," I say sleepily.

"Finn?" At the sound of that voice, her voice I'm immediately snapped awake, and I jump out of bed frantically, needing to make sure that it's really her, that I'm not dreaming. I'm not, it's her, plain as day, I know I'm not dreaming because if I were she would look happy to see me. But she doesn't, she looks pissed.

"It was you wasn't it?" She says, her voice shaky. "You talked to Tina, you convinced them to let me perform didn't you?"

I should lie, I should tell her that I had nothing to do with it, but I promised myself I would never lie to her again. So I simply nod, and know what's coming ahead of time, but somehow I'm still a bit shocked when she slaps me across the face.

"Don't do me any favors!" she snaps.

"I wasn't," I respond. "I just, I just wanted to make this right somehow."

"You can't," she says, fuming. "You ruined everything Finn, everything."

"I know," I say miserably.

"Did you honestly expect me to just come back to you after what you did?"

"No," I admit. "I just, I had to do something."

She shakes her head at me, tears beading in her eyes, her whole body shaking. "I hate you," she cries, her voice so low I can barely hear her, but even as I do I don't respond.

"Did you hear me?" she says a little more loudly. "I said I hate you."

"I know," I repeat, but it isn't enough for me to know, she wants me to really feel it.

"I hate you!" she repeats, hitting me with her tiny fists, and I still don't react, I just stand there, letting her hate wash over me. "I hate you. You're a despicable excuse for a human being and I can't believe that I ever thought differently for even a second."

"You can't possibly hate me as much as I hate myself," I say. "I hate myself for hurting you Rachel, I can't shake it, it haunts me every day."

"Good!" she snaps. "It should haunt you. I hope it follows you for the rest of your miserable life."

"You don't have anything to worry about," I assure her.

"What happened in the gym would have been bad enough, but to lie about it, to make me trust you, love you, that was just beyond low."

"I didn't mean for it to go that far," I tell her. "Me falling in love with you, I never expected that to happen, but it did."

"Don't do that," she says angrily. "Don't pretend like anything you claimed to feel for me was real."

"It was all real," I say, my voice breaking. "Every touch, every kiss, every time I told you I loved you, that was real Rachel, I know you have no reason to believe me—

"I don't," she says, cutting me off. "How can I believe anything you say to me now? How can I possibly forgive you for this? I can't, I can't forgive you."

"I don't need your forgiveness," I say cupping her cheek, wiping away her tears, and she's still shaking so hard, but she lets me touch her "I just need you, any way that I can have you, even if you hate me for the rest of our lives just please, please don't go."

She's sobbing now, and I want to hold her but I know she won't let me.

"I do, I do hate you. And you know what I hate about you the most Finn? Even more than your anger, and your mean spiritedness and your lies?" she says through choked sobs. "I hate how much I still love you."

At her confession my heart feels like it's skipped a few beats, she loves me, after everything she still loves me, how can she possibly still love me? I don't understand it but I'll take it, God knows I'll take it.

"I've tried so hard Finn, I've tried to stop and I can't, I love you so much that it hurts, loving you hurts every part of me."

"I'm sorry," I say, finally taking her into my arms, and kissing her hair, and she hesitates a little before hugging me back. "I'm sorry baby."

"Why did you have to lie to me?" she cries.

"I was so stupid Rachel, but I promise you I'll never lie to you again, ever."

She breaks the embrace and simply looks at me, and I'm wondering what's on her mind now, but my worried thoughts go by the wayside as she kisses me, it hasn't been long since I kissed her last, but it felt like a lifetime ago, and I missed her kisses the way I would miss oxygen if I went without it for too long, still, I can't help but break the kiss as I hear the door close behind us.

"What are you doing?" I say as she turns to lock it, but she doesn't answer as she kisses me again and backs me up toward the bed.

"Make love to me Finn," she whispers into my mouth.

"What?" I say, confused, my eyes wide.

"It's okay," she assures me. "It's not a trick."

"You're sure?"

"I know you told me that it was real, I just need to know for sure." She says, tears still in her throat. "I need you to show me."

I pull her closer and kiss her again, kiss her endlessly, kiss her so she feels everything I'm feeling for her in that moment.

"Alright," I whisper softly against her mouth.

Our clothes come off quickly, and we collapse into each other, our naked bodies pressed together so close it's like we're one person, but I need more, I need to be inside of her, I need to lose myself in her body until I know for sure that she's mine again, that she'll never leave again, because I don't think I'd be able to take being without her again. I stop only to put a condom on and I return to what I was doing.

"I love you," I whisper to her between kisses.

"This doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you, I don't think I'll ever stop being mad at you," she admits.

"You should be mad at me," I tell her, and we kiss again, and my hand heads down to her most private place, feeling the wetness there, and as she lets out a sharp cry I press my lips to hers again, silencing her.

"We have to try to be quiet," I tell her. "My stepdad's downstairs."

"I know," she says a small smile on her face. "He let me in."

"That was because of you you know," I tell her. "It was all because of you."

We kiss again, and I don't detach myself from her mouth even as I sit up, taking her with me and positioning her onto my lap. I finally break the kiss to look her deep in the eyes, wide and a little scared, but trusting.

"Are you ready?" I ask, and she nods without hesitation. I kiss her again as I pull her small body up to give myself access, and I bite her lip just a little before pulling her down, sinking into her. I'm a little scared by the loud cry she lets out, and I still myself.

"Are you alright?" I say, panicked. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I'm okay."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," she says a bit desperately. "I've just never felt so much before."

I wait a few seconds longer before I move again. I glide in and out gently, cautiously, but still, no part of my body feels like I'm doing anything cautious right now, because this puts all of my fantasies to shame. It's real now, she's in my arms, letting me love her like everything's okay again, even though I know we have a long way to go.

"Finn," she breaths as I continue to thrust into her, moving steadily faster.

"It's okay," I say with some struggle. "I got you."

She nods and holds me closer, burying her face in my shoulder. This is so, so good, I'm almost ashamed of how good this is. I have never and will never deserve this, but I need it, I need her body, and her lips and _her _and I want her to need me too, I want to make her feel as good as she's making me feel right now, so I breath deep, focusing hard on not coming until I hear that music coming from her lips. I know that she's close the way she's breathing so hard right now, and twisting her little fingers into my hair, almost hurting me.

"Finn!" she cries out, forgetting herself. But I can't even bring myself to care whether Burt heard or not, as lost in her as I am. I follow so closely behind I think we might have come at the same time, and we fall back onto the pillows, our breathing hard and sharp, but in perfect harmony.

"Are you okay?" I whisper after a few moments. And she nods.

"Are we okay?" I ask next, and she repositions herself against me holding me close to her.

"We will be," she says.

**Stay tuned folks!**


	17. The Life Of Me

**Last chapter before the epilogue, sorry it isn't longer, especially since you had to wait so long for it, but I think I said everything I wanted to say for now. By the way, I know this doesn't have anything to do with anything, but so far I'm not at all impressed with one Brody Weston, and I can't wrap my mind around the fact that such a dull character exists in the same universe as Rachel Berry, safe to say I can't see myself working him into any of my fanfics, but you never know.**

_I've never been here before, or at least I don't think I have, yet it seems familiar somehow, the meadow, the cool wind whipping at my face, everything about it feels familiar, then I realize why. I've never been here, but I've seen it, we've seen it together, since the first time when I was sick, it became something of a ritual. Most of the time we didn't even watch it, we simply talked as it played in the background, talked about everything and nothing, yet it worked its way into my subconscious somehow, and I have to admit it's a welcome change. I dream about dark things, frightening things, it's been the case ever since I saw what I saw, in fact the only time I wasn't dreaming about blood and pain and screaming was when I was dreaming about Rachel, but even in my dreams of her there was never a meadow. This is something different entirely._

_"Beautiful isn't it?" At the sound of his voice I don't feel scared or even surprised, I just smile as I look out over the hills._

_"It is," I agree. "Is this like, your heaven Kurt?"_

_"Sometimes, when I need to be alone with my thoughts," he says, shrugging. "Sometimes it's in Gertrude Stein's salon visiting with the literary greats, sometimes it's accompanying Coco Chanel or Edith Piaf to one of Jay Gatsby's extravagant parties, fictional characters and real people tend to comingle a lot here."_

_"I don't know who any of those people are," I admit. "But it sounds cool."_

_"It is," Kurt says. "James Dean is actually gay here, it's fantastic."_

_I chuckle a little at that. _

_"I miss you Kurt," I say. "But I'm glad you're happy."_

_"I'd be happier if you were happy," He says, and I look at him seriously. "I've been checking up on you every now and again, and I have to say your life isn't exactly easy to watch."_

_"I'm trying to work on that," I say. "It's hard without you, but I'm starting to think I might be okay again."_

_"You will be," he says. "And I have to say I never would have thought that Rachel Berry would be your type, but seeing you together, I must say it makes an odd sort of sense."_

_"When you love someone like I love her, everything else just kind of falls into place, I guess" I say sincerely. "I can't be mad at the world anymore because the world gave me her you know?"_

_"That's a great line, but of course you always were surprisingly poetic. But in any case I think I'll use it on James tonight, hope you don't mind." Kurt jokes, and I try to elbow him playfully, but my elbow goes right through him, and I remember where we are._

_"Our time is over now Finn," Kurt says. "Until you find yourself here one day."_

_"You think I'll get in?" I ask._

_"I think they'd be lucky to have you," Kurt says with a warm smile. "Until then, enjoy your life Finn, you only have one."_

_"I will," I promise him. "Goodbye Kurt."_

_"Goodbye brother."_

As he fades away I start to wake up, I'm not sure how long I was out, but Rachel is still here, wide awake and curled into my side and I wish that time could just stand still, that I could be here forever with her, tangled in the sheets with her naked body close to mine, her leg wrapped around my hip, her fingers softly grazing my skin. I've never felt more at peace than I do now, even knowing that she's still furious with me it's enough that she's here in my arms, and if my secrets didn't drive her away then maybe it was possible that she would always be here. I can't screw this up again, even if I have to spend the rest of my life making this up to her I will. It's like Kurt said, I only get one life, and I have to make it count.

"Hey," I whisper sleepily, my lips right up against her ear. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know," she says, her wide eyes staring back into mine. "Different."

"Good different?" I ask a bit nervously, and she gives me a reassuring smile.

"Good different," she confirms. "But also confusing different."

"Because you hate me?" I guess.

"Is this how you used to feel when you hated me?" she asks.

"Worse," I say. "Because you never gave me a reason to hate you."

"I love you too though, you should know that."

"I'm so happy you still do, even though I don't deserve it."

"That's the thing about love, it doesn't always make sense," she says, snuggling in closer to me, and I kiss her forehead and her cheek and pull her into me tighter.

"One day I'm going to prove to you that it makes sense to love me, I'm going to be better, I promise you that from the bottom of my heart."

"I know you will," She says. "I'm not going to let you hurt me again."

"You don't have to worry about that, ever," I assure her.

"You know after you told me I thought really hard back to that night," she starts. "I still don't remember most of it, but one thing stands out."

I knit my brow in confusion and look at her questioningly. "What do you remember?"

"You told them to stop, didn't you?"

"I tried," I tell her. "But that doesn't make it any better, I was still there."

"But you told them to stop," she presses on. "And you didn't leave, you helped me."

"Rach I—

"Finn, what we're you thinking when all of that was happening, what was on your mind?"

I've tried not to think about that night, but now that she's asking me these hard questions I can't help but let my mind go back to what happened, her scared face, her tears, my heart pounding in my chest as I wished so hard that I was somewhere else.

"You were scared," I say. "And you were crying and it made me feel like shit, and when you fell…

"What? What were you thinking?" she urges me on.

"First of all that I was scared shitless," I explain, my voice cracking. "Then when I saw you lying there I just…"

"It's okay Finn," she says. "Tell me."

"I didn't know why then but, I wanted to hold you, I just wanted to make it okay somehow but I couldn't."

I'm caught by surprise when she pulls my face toward her and kisses me, but I kiss her back and roll her onto her back. I can already feel myself growing hard again as we kiss, and I part from her lips and drag my mouth down her body, kissing her chin and her neck and her collarbone and I hear her sigh as I wrap my lips around her nipple, suckling her a little before I lay my head against her chest.

"I never thanked you," she says her voice breathy as we lie together. "For calling Tina, I know I didn't show it because I wanted you to suffer, but being Maureen, it really did mean so much to me, and it was probably about the best time I've ever had on that stage. When I was performing, everything bad going on in my life just faded away for a little while, it was just me and the audience and nothing else mattered."

"You were amazing," I say truthfully. "I was so proud of you Rach."

"I was proud of you too, and even though I'm still mad I'm proud of you for telling me the truth, I know how hard that must have been."

"I'll everyone if you want me to, I'll tell the cops, I'll tell Figgins, I will. I deserve to go to jail for what I did to you. We all do."

"I'm not telling Figgins anything," she says, combing my hair with her fingers. "Going to jail won't do you any good, you need to be here, with me. _I_ need you here."

"What about the others?"

"They have to live with themselves, that's the worst punishment I can think of."

I don't feel relieved, grateful maybe but not relieved, because once again she's proving to me that she's so much better than I'll ever deserve, and I'm so hopelessly in love with her I can't stand it.

"I love you so much Rachel," I cry, pressing my face against her stomach, and I plant soft, wet kisses there, over and over, endlessly, steadily moving down, and before I know it my tongue is inside her again, and she slowly unravels like she always does trying to keep her voice quiet she tears at my hair instead but I barely feel it, and I try to keep my own head together because every part of her is so damn sweet, but there's something different about the way she tastes this time, something slightly coppery, and I snatch my face away, scared.

"Rach, you're…"

"What? What's wrong?" she says breathlessly, collecting herself.

"I made you bleed," I say shamefully.

"Finn," she sighs, sitting up and wrapping me in her arms, letting me rest my head on her shoulder as I whisper apologies over and over.

"I'm sorry baby," I say quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"It was my first time," she reassures me. "That's normal. I'm fine, I promise."

"Are you sure?" I say. "I wasn't too rough with you?"

"I'm sure. You were very gentle, you were perfect." she promises again. "I know I don't have anything to compare it to but it was amazing, you have to believe that."

We kiss again, and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her body up against mine.

"Can we do it again?" she whispers against my mouth.

"You want to?"

She nods, giving me another small smile, and I kiss her deeply, feeling like the whole world is in her kiss. And we make love for the second time and I slowly and gently move in and out of her, wishing like hell that time really could stop. That it could always be like this, but I know it won't, I know that things will be still be shitty sometimes, and sometimes they'll be great, but it will be my life and for the first time in so long I'm finally ready to truly live it.

"I love you," she sighs as I pump and thrust into her feeling her slick walls tighten around me like every part of her was meant for me, and every part of me was meant for her. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," I manage to choke out. "Always."

* * *

I try to ignore the way Burt is looking at me as I show Rachel out, but I have to admit the amusement on his face is welcome, and better than the look of depression that has graced his features ever since Kurt died, even if he knows exactly what was going on up there and the thought of it embarrasses me to my very core.

"You guys were up there an awful long time," Burt says as I shut the door and join him in the kitchen.

"Yeah, we were just talking," I say, probably pretty unconvincingly.

"Hey you're an adult," he says raising his hands defensively. "I just hope you were using protection for all that _talking._"

"So, how are you doing Burt?" I say, needing to change the subject immediately.

"Good… better," he says, his voice still a bit sad. "Me and your mom had a nice talk last this morning."

"Do you think you'll be off the couch anytime soon?"

"Well, I don't know about that, but your mom's couch is better than that little apartment all by myself."

"She'll come around," I say. "If Rachel can forgive me than anything is possible."

"Sounded to me like she forgave the crap out of you," Burt teases.

"Oh god I can't be talking about this," I say squeezing my eyes shut in embarrassment.

"Hey, I had to hear it it's only fair that I get to give you crap about it."

"Anyway," I say rolling my eyes. "Did you want to go see the new Batman, my treat? I know you haven't seen it yet."

"How would you know? I get out."

"No you don't," I say without hesitation as I hop off of the stool and grab my keys. "Come on, I'm driving."

**Stay tuned for the epilogue folks!**


	18. Epilogue

**Oh Finn, you never fail to break my heart into one thousand pieces. Why don't you realize how much Rachel loves you you adorable self-pitying doofus? Here's hoping you find your way, we're all rooting for you kid. Anyway here's a short epilogue for you lovely people, I am so overwhelmed by the amazing response to this story (I never thought I'd see the day when I'd hit 500 plus reviews). Thank you all for supporting it and me, even with the slow updates. I love you all!**

I think Puck understands why we don't really talk anymore, at least not for now. I know that he's sorry for what happened to Rachel, he doesn't really acknowledge Dave either, neither does Quinn, even Azimio keeps his distance now. In fact, Dave doesn't even try with us anymore, he seems to know where he stands with us, with me, with Rachel. I think in a way he's afraid of her, the way she simply bounces back every time. He can't break her and he knows it, so finally he stops trying, resigning himself to a quiet, lonely existence the last few months of school. Part of me still wants to turn myself in, Rachel tells me to move on and stop torturing myself. She says she has, that she feels sorry for Dave more than anything and it must be terrible to hate himself so much for something as simple as who he loves. She's amazing.

I try to be better, like I told her I would. She tutors me in English and I end the semester with a C plus, and an invitation from Mr. Schue to join glee club, which I accept without nearly as much reluctance as I would have before, if anything it's one more thing to put on my college application, god knows it could use as much padding as it can get. I still go to family counseling with Burt and my mom a couple of times a week, he sleeps in my mom's bed again, life goes on.

I still miss Kurt, she knows it, she knows that I'll always miss him, but I find a way to keep my promise, to live my life and be happy again. It's not quite so hard to manage being happy when she's here, when I'm talking to her about everything and nothing, when I hear her laughing in my ear when I kiss her neck or moan softly when I touch her everywhere. When the year started I never would have predicted this. That guy seems like a stranger to me now, that dark point in my life feels like a distant memory that I never want to go back to, but I know that it was real and there's no escaping it. I can only learn from it.

She's over again today, laying beside me, lazily combing my messy hair with her fingers, tired from our afternoon of marathon fucking while Burt and My mom were out. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to get enough of her.

"Finn?" she says, her voice soft, and I ask her what's on her mind. "Do you know what you're going to do, you know, after high school?"

I've been waiting for her to ask me that, with one semester left it was bound to come up.

"I know when Kurt was alive you talked about going to New York," she continues carefully.

"Yeah," I say a bit sadly.

"Well…" she goes on. "Do you ever still think about that?"

My eyes meet hers, she looks hopeful, but a bit troubled at the same time, like she doesn't know for sure if she's going to like my answer. But I've thought about this, there's nothing for me here, especially not without her. But figuring out my life isn't going to be as easy as following Rachel to the big city.

"I think he'd want me to be there," I say, smiling a little at her. "I just don't know what I'm going to do when I get there you know? If I'll even belong." I lay my head back down on her chest and let out a deep sigh.

"Well you're so good at so many things," she assures me. "You can sing, you can act, you taught Brittany how to play the drums, and don't get me wrong I find Brittany delightful but imparting wisdom to her can be quite daunting to say the least."

"I guess I'll figure all of that out when I get there," I say, shrugging. "You'll help me right?"

"Do you mean it?" she says with a beaming smile. And I kiss her mouth, once, lightly.

"I just don't think there's a place for me here now. And I'm better, I am, but everything around me just reminds me of things that I don't want to feel anymore. And mom is so much better, and Burt is too. They're moving on. That's what I want to do."

"You will," she assures me. "You are."

"Rachel?" I say after a moment, and her eyes meet mine again. "Do you still think about the past, you know, with me?"

"Finn," she says, frustrated.

"No, I mean it, do you?" I insist.

"Finn, this was never going to be my life," she says. "As hard as the name-calling and the bullying and the pranks were to deal with I knew that it was only a matter of time until I would find that place where I could belong."

I simply nod a little.

"But no matter what your reasoning was you reached out to me, and you gave me a reason to look back fondly on my years at McKinley, something I never thought would have been possible. I don't feel any resentment toward you Finn, only love."

I want to say more, but I accept her answer and nod a little. She really does love me, I'm not sure if I'll ever deserve her love but I have it, and I know I have to believe that.

I want to tell her I love her too because I simply can't say it enough, but her phone rings before I can get a word in.

"Hey Blaine," she says brightly into the phone. "Really? Right now? Okay, let me just tell Finn… okay I'll see you in a little bit… bye."

"Let me guess," I say with a smirk. "You have to go?"

"Blaine needs my help at the mall, he's torn between bow ties, I don't know why he bothers, he's just going to end up picking the one I like least. But he wants to catch a movie after."

"Okay, well have fun," I say as she gets up and starts to put her clothes back on.

"You know you're free to come with," she offers.

"Bowtie shopping with you and Blaine? Sounds thrilling but I think I'm going to pass babe."

"Okay," she says shrugging, and she bends down to give me a quick kiss before leaving. "I'll call you when I get back."

"Looking forward to it," I say sincerely, and she leaves and my head sinks back down onto the pillows, a smile on my lips.

**Sigh, If only Finn deciding to go to New York with Rachel were as simple on the actual show. Anyway, thank you all so much for following this story, and a new chapter of St. McKinley's should be up tomorrow or the next day. Until next time…**

**That's all folks!**


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